Today my sister cut out a chunk of my hair.
It was an accident but it didn't hurt any less.
My hair is a staple for me. It's what I'm known for.
I've gone through so many phases of my life but it's the ONE thing that stayed consistent. It felt like a root in my life during all the madness I go through.
My hair was waist length.
I could only hold the braid in my hand and stare at it. I didn't even realized I was crying while I told her "it's okay. Accidents happen." And I'm still trying to calm myself as I reason that "if I can't fix it in a day, then why worry?" But problems like this, always stick.
My fingers touched the ragged ends left from her damage and I could feel the coldness of the room on my scalp. I still do.
It hurts so much.
Why does everything I love end up ruined? Why can I never just be at peace?
Do I have to earn happiness?
I've been crying in bed for who knows how long.
I cant look her in the face.
YOU ARE READING
Dark skinned Dreams
RandomJust trying to find myself and my place. Just trying to find peace. People told me I should make a diary and this is it. It's all personal thoughts and feelings I hope that I'm not alone in feeling. Major trigger warning ahead.
