#mywriting #hair
September 23, 2024. Monday
Wild Hair. Wild Streaks
I don’t look in the mirror often, but when I do
It asks-
“What do you have in mind with that hair?”
I reply-
“I just want to let it be what it is,
do what it wants to do, and go where it wants to go.”
For too many years it’s been tied up, and tied down
with every strand neatly in place.
I’ve forced it to my will with rollers, curling irons,
hair blowers and hair spray.
It’d been fried, dyed, frizzed and teased.
I’ve taken it to salons where it has been destroyed.
Competition has always been fierce.
Young, beautiful people have stood in line to get my job.
Others have been cut-throat ruthless. Now. I don’t care.
I’m finished jumping through hoops, and hoops set on fire.
They can have it all on a gold-plated platter.
What I think about is his hands in my soft, wild hair.
I love how he puts me together like a Rubik’s Cube.
But oh, Vanities of vanities. All is vanity.
Gone is the abundance of the dark hair of my youth.
I’ll soon be shoved off a cliff and put in a category.
Silver is growing now, and I’ll let it continue
on its path to change me.
It’s skipped over a grey zone and gone directly to the point.
I like that attitude.
Should I color it green? purple? or turquoise?
and get a dragon tattoo.
No. I think not. My ears aren’t even pierced.
I would like my hair color to match his.
But a streak or two might be his favorite colors!
