Drops of water fall on the floor.
I am drowning.
I choose to drown in the shower.
To drown my pain.
I run a hand through my hair.
It's always a rat's nest.
Curly, messy, tangled up.
The only time I love my hair
Is the moment it is drowned in water.
The shower is turned off
And I dry myself and dress myself.
When I walk into the bedroom,
I'm enfolded in strong arms.
He runs a hand through my hair
And kisses me softly.
"You know," he murmurs, "I love your hair...it's perfect."
