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Poetry
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| For A | |
| By kitten_princess | ||||
| 20 September 2006 | ||||
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Hmm... undecided. This poem deals with the aftermath of a very personal event... one that may have even changed my life. I won't say anymore, in case it makes your reading of the poem biased. As usual, I would like it to be ripped to shreds with comments (constructive critisism!)  She got her hair cut. I stare at it, for a while. That curly mass she snipped, chopped, cut down to a bob that frames her face; those soft cheeks, same hard eyes. Why? She looks right into me, as if to say: "Yes, this is me now. I cut my hair and I can cut you too... see? I can walk away now. Don't think I can't 'cos I can." And she gazes back, grazing old wounds, letting scars twinge. Remembering to me certain finger traces, finger tips... But no, I must get a cut too.
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