There was the winter I got worse and worse
and then in the spring, I tried to get better.
That was the spring I opened my mouth for the first time,
making everything one step more real.
And it’s funny
because nothing really changed after I told my secret.
The transcendent revelation,
the miraculous healing,
everything I’d imagined- none of that ever happened.
But I had still taken that step,
I had still proved that I could.
That was the spring I decided to cut my hair,
finally, change something in the rigid routine I had built up.
And it’s funny
because nothing really changed after I chopped off my hair.
It wasn’t like I was chopping off the symptoms,
the controlling fear,
the feeling like you’re trapped.
But now my head is lighter,
I think I look nicer,
and I’ve still proven I can change things.
This is not the spring everything is better,
but it is the spring,
I am deciding to try.