hair loss

There was once a girl with beautiful hair
each strand represented a day , a memory, a beautiful thought
she covered her hair loved her hair combed her hair wanted her hair to be an emotional secret 

But the wicked witch inside her grew nad grew until she convinced her to let down her hair to stop hiding her hair, to stop protecting it and thats when her  hair turned into a witches nest ,
where it harvested pain, pleasure, desire, lust and ....she suddenly lost the black shine, the smooth curls, the long silk running to her shoulders it was like an evil spell coming true a poisoned apple attacking the softness
suddenly it was sharp, rough tough brown? or was it grey? broken strands on the floor and most importantly
this hair was now no longer hers it was no longer under her control under her body
it was no longer to be proud of
it was no longer to be clean of to be talked of to be smiled about

the mirror cried for it could no longer show her the good and beautiful it used to see
the lamps tired of shining for they had nothing to shine for
she started living in a place damp cold and queit and alone
she was alone
she lost her hair
she lost its suprise
its black beauty
its tremendous strength
all she could see was ....clumps of mistakes
each mistake had cut a piece of her mind
until there was no longer anything t o .....take
it was all just a distant memory now.............