She was as normal as the next teenage girl,
just as emotional
just as overwhelmed,
just as rebellious.
She just seemed to unleash herself,
express herself more then anyone else.
Kayla did not keep anything hidden,
but rather used her emotions as a form of art,
and displayed this somewhere where everyone could see-
the top of her head.

Last week she was portraying a passionate purple.
Deep, lustrous shades of lavender and violet swirled through her hair-
she had just celebrated her anniversary with her boyfriend.
Yesterday she had the whole spectrum of colors on her head-
like a rainbow each color blended into the next.
She had just passed her exam and she was jumping with joy throughout the whole day.
“What’s with the hair? Can’t you find a different hobby,” people would say.
But Kayla didn’t care.

No one knows exactly how this habit started for Kayla.
She used to have the most beautiful,
lustrous, long curls
all the way down to her waist.
But she also used to be aggressive,
used to be anguished,
used to be anger-filled.
The dye replaced the obnoxious behavior-
her hair became her outlet.

Today was not a good day for Kayla.
The anger was still fresh-
she reeked of hair dye.
Today her hair was blazing red,
as red as a fire hydrant.
Her hair paralleled her attitude-
she was fuming.
She got dumped by her boyfriend the previous evening and although no one knew the depth of the situation,
they knew she was mad.

She couldn’t feel anything,
the numbness was unbearable.
She hesitated as she grabbed the scissors.
She was filled with despair as her emotions disappeared, drained,
as did the colors in her life.
No more feelings,
no more colors,
no more hair.

Snip….Snip