Tied my hair up,
and cut it all off
you said how
fucking dumb of an idea
it was
in the middle of January.

so I said
I’ll let it grow back,
and I did

We had said
that this time
It was different,
but I kept my sweaters on,
pulling them over my head
closing my eyes,
and going to bed alone.

And mostly me
weren’t any different
and I slammed my hands
against the white
plastic table,
I could’ve sworn
I was trying,
But your words
and the silence between them
dug into me
until I
stayed up until the sun
thinking how I wasn’t much
of myself anymore,
somebody or something
I thought you wanted.

You didn’t call me
for hours,
saying I ate up too much of your time
Or how my name tasted sour and hers was new and she was funny,
and you didn’t think that I was.

Then you would draw me back,
For a week
Or two
because you thought you loved me,
but thinking wasn’t easy
for me,
So I let you sleep
In my bed
wanting to forget
how cyclic
you and I
had became.

And my insides began to unravel,
realizing how much longer my hair had gotten,
and we hadn’t gotten anywhere
and you slept so easily
through the night
and it seemed nothing bothered you
much at all.

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