I always thought it was funny the way you twirled your fingers in my hair, like you were spinning lies into the threads escaping from the roots of my head. My head, containing my mind, containing all the knowledge and wisdom that should have known better. You spent so much time weaving my hair, twisting it around your finger much like what you did to me. Hair breaks, you know. When you don’t treat it the right way. It becomes damaged, cracked, and most of the time we don’t even notice when the damage becomes irreversible. It happens right under our noses, in the blink of an eye. Soon enough we’ve lost it altogether. You’re a boy, how could you know? Ignorance is bliss and I’ll let you go - I just want to tell you what I’ve learned.
Hair grows back.