my hair falls on my arms, elbows. it is unrecognizably long. it feels like it is not my part of the body, a mere extension of time i spent in my life, both being me and not. i think about how my hair kept growing regardless of any circumstances, its ambition is inconsiderate, rude, sharp, everywhere. does it know that it is mine? why does it grow at times when i wish i had no body at all, let alone hair. it tickles my back when i sleep, my funny little animal. my little key, my orphan.