Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.
Who I was yesterday is not who I am today, yet, in a strange way I am the same person. It’s an amazing paradox.
I am contrasted to my yesterday self.
In my yesterday skin, I was my hair, long and filled with stories, each inch overflowing with seconds, minutes and weeks of moments. Each moment reaching for the past and the future, whispers of a life unfolding.
In my yesterday skin, my hair often defined me, while still allowing me to define who I needed to be. My hair and me, symbiotically living through sunrises and sunsets. Sisters, my hair and I. Sisters of the sun and moon.
In my today skin, I am my hair. Sometimes. My stories have been cut away— some trashed, some burned, some tucked away in a music box. Locs of stories. Long locs of memories wrapped in tears and laughter, dance and song. They’ve left me, cut away by my own hands. The whispers are hushed and the stories set aside, tucked away in tiny file cabinets in my mind, no longer residents of my locs, but now residents of my past.
I am the contrast of myself—at times. Some pieces of my yesterday in Black & White. Some pieces of my today in full color. Contrasts. The paradox is real.