That time
I cut my hair with rusty sheers
just to avoid
hurting you
easier to take it out on myself
rejection makes me a fool
this time
I cut my hair properly and it looked
better than it had since my eyes
did not require to appear full of hope
you always wanted me to keep it long
so I could not see my way out
I stayed
far too still
warm in the notion
you cared
when you had left
long before
and the chill
became something
I was used to