(no subject)

[sgriobhaiche]

Shirr lay down her pen
and let her thin tendrils of hair
shift in the breeze from the window
the gentle caress on her scarred back
reminded her why she let it grow so serpintine
longer than was seemly
twining it in her silver tiped fingers
she stared into the rainy day outside
knowing that the time of change was coming
she meant it this time
but she was keeping the bloody hair