(For someone precious)

If the amount


hair I tore

out sitting in

the nurse’s office


if you would be

alright, a Rapunzel

rosary of split ends

and peroxide ambiguity,

my eyelids

all shrinking

violets, marshmallows,

a mound of

salt next to you)

was worth its weight

in gold

I would try

to buy you

happiness or,

melting down,

forge myself

a brand new heart,

one that glistened

warm enough

to guide you

safely home.

The End

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