Ch-ch-ch-changes

Photo on 10-20-14 at 5.57 PM #4
I chop off my hair.
It is ragged and uneven and looks horrible but I need this.
I hack pieces of my femininity off
and watch it fall into the trash bin.

I don’t give a shit.
Nothing touches me.

I smear on makeup never worn before. Taint my skin & dirty my eyes.
Angry at the world, untouchable.
My boyfriend won’t like this but fuck that.
He asks if I still have hair, because it matters to him.

Angry at norms and expectations.
I am restricted by regulations.

I wonder if my anger grows from my depression, insidiously twisting towards others.
I try not to lash out.

Friendships recede into the past, good times setting over the horizon.
I wonder if I will see them again.

Is this adulthood? Are these the celebrated college years?
I try hard not to fixate on the daydreams about my death.

Sometimes I believe I am to blame.

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