The hair was growing longer. Each strand was kissed by him. Each end of each split had so many roads to choose from. Chaos resonated from each wave. It had been about 365 days since no scissor had touched this head. After she met him and he had a head that mirrored hers, she thought she never would cut those strands ever again. Their heads together and formed a big heart of madness. In that kingdom of sweet smelling marijuana rhymes and rush hour on local train night times ~ with every time they came together they tangled in each other a little more. The strands held on so tight and pulled her down. Kept her feet on the ground. Together they weaved dreams of dreadlocks and hemp clothes. But they couldn’t escape the epidemic of the knots. She did not know when tangled become entangled. She did not know when sweet love turned into sweet pain. Yes pain can be sweet when you like cavities. Deep dark cavities you can hide secrets in. He invited himself out of her head as fast as he came in uninvited. Left with her own head she walked into the summer heat. The sun burnt, the sand kissed, the salt in the ocean ticked wounds. She kept walking on as her head got heavier. Without him her strands started to wither. Rough were the roads and rough became her hair. She would tie them up in oil and cream before she went to bed. But would wake up with them all out and scattered. They could not be tamed. Their madness was taking over her. And one day, she could not take it. She had to do it. So she did. Let a magician cut them away. Dead they lie waiting for him to come back and grow them back to life.
