Looking Through The Looking Glass

I wrote a poem about how my hair was a jail cell. I woke up and I felt like a prisoner of war looking through my strands of hair. that was after all the things that changed in my life. After all the suicidal thoughts were gone. I didn’t know who I was, I felt trapped by the girl who tore my world apart. So I got my hair cut short. It was such a relief. I felt so alive, so new. It was amazing. The freedom I felt. See I think that’s how they got the idea to cut Felicity’s hair they new I cut my and decided they should do that to Felicity so she could feel the freedom I felt. The world was new and different. Now my hair is long again and I’m arguing with myself about cutting it again or letting it grow. Till it can’t grow no more. I don’t know. I liked it short it was fun. It was cute and sweet and nice like sugar and spice. Now it’s long and it’s like normal again. I feel like the girl before all the bad things happened again. It’s great, it’s wonderful. Later.