It was bright and it was annoying and it was gяεεη so it was his [no, it’s not].
Narrowed eyes, fiery under the warm light, blazed in quiet anger at the hideous sight.
The gяεεη -
ѕρяιиg тєαℓ ρєяѕιαи
It curled and it taunted with its shades and twists and turns as it rolled down his thick unruly locks.
Fingers dug into the thick mane, feeling the gяεεη. The fake gяεεη. The-
ℓιмє נυиgℓє νιяι∂ιαи
It was bright. It was мαитιѕ And it was [not his].
A fist slammed to the sink, while memories bubbled to the surface.
It pulled him back to the shell of a child, quiet and lost. And so, wordlessly, he slid to his knees.
Trembling fingers grasped at the gяεεη spilling over the sink’s edge.
It bled slowly, achingly into open palms. The color was losing quickly; he hoped to have gotten it perfect this time. After all these years, it was still… [ ].
Quickly quickly Cover it so no one knows
How dare you kill your mother How dare you be a monster How dare you look like that How dare you-
The gяεεη spreads
bright bright bright gяεεη
It sinks into the coarse cuticles, hiding the bone white. Locks like snow were signs of a devil.
Quickly quickly Cover it so no one knows
мσиєт мσиєт мσиєт
It was мσиєт gяεεη.
As the gяεεη bled in, he could look at himself again.