How fast does a human grow a whole new set of hair?

Are the ends of my hair that I incessantly pick at

the same as the ones my mom would spend hours

trying to convince me to brush?


When did it start becoming important to me

that my hair was not sticking up?

Maybe the same time someone pointed out to me

that my hair splits as if they were crossroads on a life-altering journey.


Carpeted floors that are no longer there

Years of lying on the comfortable fur

of my house ripped out in seconds.

Too many stains. Too hard to clean.

Reasons why they disappeared to be

replaced by perfect floors made of polished trees.

My expanse of cloud gone.


There was no room for facts or science in my brain.

Only space for colorful telelevision

and continuous daydreams of who I could secretly be.

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