nice ‘n’ easy

when my head hangs down
my hair falls like a curtain
of unintentional ombre’ shadow.
not a product
of the aesthetician’s paintbrush,
deliberate in its backwards glow,
it advances like an army
prepared to vanquish
those who would
constrain it to unwieldy lengths-
tangles of barbed wire
made for catching dead dreams.
peripheral visions of fire
scarlet hallucinations
the fading remnants
of hester prynne’s fingerprints
on my criminal record.
a golden halo at the crown
mocks in the mirror.
“so you think you’re innocent,
yesterday’s girl?”

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