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once upon a time i grew my Hair out
like rapunzel to suit rules i had
no power to reset

like the Violence of the day i brought
an open pair of scissors to myself
and snipped them closed

on the first day
i believed in

on the last day
i believed in

i shook jewellery from my body:
nine grand on the bathroom counter
before i trimmed my hair back in the mirror,

before you told me, as if it
were not violence, that i had been
a princess in some book you maybe wrote

Filed under: poems Tagged: books, history, learning, men, mirrors, poem, poetry, princess, self

This post first appeared on JDG – Scrapbook Diary, please read the originial post: here

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