My darkness dyes my hair,
leaving it like a raven’s wings.
Maybe you can love me
during your insomnia
or in the bitterness of your days.
I’ll give you the contrasting sweetness.

Mischievously,
I’ll rest my raven-black hair on you,
entwining every strand around your body,
leaving you strong—
and so loved.

My fragility sprouts in your hands.
The torment will never leave me—it’s true.
But you understand my melancholy
as you brush my hair.

And still,
there’s so much beauty
in the love that runs through these yarns
that you finally love me
despite all my madness.

I cover you with my hair
like a cloak of gloom—
and there will be no one else
besides me.

Personal photo archive.