Do I realize I’m cutting all my hair off?
Do I realize I’m trying to make myself look cleaner because I need to believe I can be? Sure, I do.
But when I walk out of the barber shop the atmosphere of the street feels as empty as my head does, and there is nothing to grab onto,
and for a moment I’m not checking my phone the way I usually do, but just there, practically naked,
like I’ve just been born.