today i dared to scar my sullen hair;
thighs placed upon a high rolling chair;
in the face of the mirror i took my stand,
five foot four and sat tall and grand.

low upon the hardwood floor formed grass;
decapitated ends that stung like glass,
some ran down my shirt and prickled thus,
itchy all over and really just a fuss.

i did not enjoy cutting my hair.
i rather disliked the whole affair.
but the thing about liking
and hating and fighting
is that whether regrets lie in your heart or not,
your battles have still been woefully fought.

so do not despair,
for it is merely some hair.
lover of music;
temporary and mystic,
just move on

To another day
Where you may shine
At the rise of the sun
And the drowning of the stars
Beg for pity on something you cannot love
Plead for mercy on the heart of the sky
Wish for hope
Hope for the wish
Pray for the truth
Truthfully pray.

and face the rise of a new sun.