Burning tears

Run down my cheeks.

Each one filled with pain

And misery. I

Know nothing of what is wrong with me. Looking

Down, scissors, and annoying hair.

Off chunks go.

Way to many strands left connected.

Now they notice the hair around my knees and the

Smile on my lips, the laugh in my voice.

Scissors, gone, so is half the hair on my head,

Ugly and abnormal, the half with

Chopped hair. They finally tell someone who

Knows what to do. And yet, even with her help, I am messed up.