Hair Tied Up in Madness —Marysa Writes

My hair is a prelude to my mental illness, an introduction to the dissatisfaction with stability within me; The first time I ever dyed my hair, I was sixteen, a peak in the development, rather lack thereof; my brain once a high-functioning factory, now a run-down fun house, cracked mirrors replacing every assembly line thatContinue reading “Hair Tied Up in Madness —Marysa Writes”