Hair:
Walking through the street beside her, I could feel my heartbeat fast. "Can she hear it?" I thought. The autumn breeze touched our cheeks, the walk felt long, and I loved it. I suddenly felt something soft brush past my cheeks, which was her smooth black hair which, looked like velvet night. I wish I had the power to stop the time and feel her hair between my hands.
Every morning I wake up, and the first thing I see is my messy and frizzy hair. I don't know what I should feel about it. My hair is not like how it used to be, as days go by keeps getting thin. At times I love how it looks, but sometimes I don't. Why are you like this hair?
I look at my reflection in the mirror, and it feels like I am looking at a stranger. I don't feel myself at all. I feel forced to be someone who I am not. Why am I not allowed to cut my hair and be who I want to be? Every time I look at myself and feel my long hair, I feel numb. I don't want long hair but, being forced to keep them long to make others feel happy.
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