Twisted Love

She shaved my head with a meticulous malice.
My beautiful brown locks littered the cold tiled floor.
Roughly grabbing my head into her spidery broken fingers she spoke.
"My little hairless mole rat" she called me as she got up and crept away.
Alone I sat whimpering..not of fear or sadness, but of joy.
I know deep down she loves me, no matter how twisted that love must be.