when my hair started falling from the roots like autumn leaves
i could no longer hear the sound like a rainforest during summer rains when i wrung out my hair in the bathtub, the water hitting the tile
instead, my hair showed up in between my fingers, blue nails, raw knuckles
i used to love that sound
sixteen empty bottles of poland spring and four crumpled up gum wrappers were the epitome of my willpower 
and when my vision started to blur and my limbs grew cold i forced myself to realize that rainforests are the lungs of the earth
why shouldn't i be able to hear it breathe?
i wanted to hear my wet hair against the bathtub again
so i chewed
and i swallowed
This poem is about: 
Our world


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