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[untitled 5w]

The first time they cut my hair I thought how fun

a change

the second time they cut my hair

I thought of ducks or monsters

the third time they cut my hair

I remembered where I had hid a cheereo

the fourth time they cut my hair

they caught my ear with the scissors

and I cried and cried

the fifth time they cut my hair

it was a Sunday and it rained at 4

the sixth time they cut my hair I begged not to be taken

the seventh time they cut my hair

I asked politely for this and that

the eighth time they cut my hair

they lobbed it off easy and easy and it felt treacherous

the ninth time they cut my hair

I had stopped caring about the removed me

the eleventh time they cut my hair

they knew and didn't ask how to do it

the twelfth time they cut my hair

I was silent and forgave myself.


Déjà vu is a cold thing.

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