So, it STARTED with the tugging,
Fine hairs drifting to the ground,
Pulling at my scalp a bit,
Breaking off without a sound.
I watched it moving, slowly,
Eyes following, enthralled,
I looked it up online:
Trichotillomania's what it's called.
In the MIDDLE, it was tough though,
Urge to yank, drive hard,
If I had truly done it-
My skin would have been scarred.
Resistance was a massive problem,
But I came and conquered all,
My strength was something new to me,
And let me stand up tall:
The END: I'm still a worrier,
But instead I plait my hair,
It's staying firmly on my head,
Not going anywhere.
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