03-01-2013, 01:54 PM
Just let me shave my head!
I’m a girl, so what?
I don’t need hair to prove it,
To prove Double-Xs in the helix of DNA
If I want to be bald,
Can’t I make it so?
Without all these men,
And these well-behaved women
Crying out at my fresh scalp,
With tears falling in sheaves
As my pigtails roll like cookie dough
Down my milky back.
This isn’t about being different
I don’t need daddy’s attention
More so, I can’t stand that
When I wake up in the morning,
I have these Blondie locks
Stuck to the sweat at neck nape
That formed as I tossed and turned
In glorious nightmares of Rapunzel
Fairytales.
My friends, silly critics of frill and fluff,
They ask me--- What about the dances?
You’ll have nothing to curl, nothing to spray,
To fuss about!
That, I plead for the umpteenth time, is the point.
I brag how much time I’ll have
Without the drag of hair
I don’t need to wear pink ribbons
Or run my fingers through satin ringlets.
They counter my baldness babble-
“You won’t get a date; boys like girls with…”
I refuse to be persuaded.
Hair! Hair! Hair!
They worry about my femininity,
About my self-confidence, oh so vain.
And, I--- I just let the clippers buzz
Buzzzziiinnng across the airwaves
Above my temple, the blade nicks
The sweet spot where I put my extra
Pencil during tests.
A thin sting of red runs ‘round my ear
In the reflection, my head gleams
Brighter than a glassy bulb.
And the blood pulses
Uninterrupted by follicle forests
And this makes me happy.
The razor coos---
What a pretty girl!
I’m a girl, so what?
I don’t need hair to prove it,
To prove Double-Xs in the helix of DNA
If I want to be bald,
Can’t I make it so?
Without all these men,
And these well-behaved women
Crying out at my fresh scalp,
With tears falling in sheaves
As my pigtails roll like cookie dough
Down my milky back.
This isn’t about being different
I don’t need daddy’s attention
More so, I can’t stand that
When I wake up in the morning,
I have these Blondie locks
Stuck to the sweat at neck nape
That formed as I tossed and turned
In glorious nightmares of Rapunzel
Fairytales.
My friends, silly critics of frill and fluff,
They ask me--- What about the dances?
You’ll have nothing to curl, nothing to spray,
To fuss about!
That, I plead for the umpteenth time, is the point.
I brag how much time I’ll have
Without the drag of hair
I don’t need to wear pink ribbons
Or run my fingers through satin ringlets.
They counter my baldness babble-
“You won’t get a date; boys like girls with…”
I refuse to be persuaded.
Hair! Hair! Hair!
They worry about my femininity,
About my self-confidence, oh so vain.
And, I--- I just let the clippers buzz
Buzzzziiinnng across the airwaves
Above my temple, the blade nicks
The sweet spot where I put my extra
Pencil during tests.
A thin sting of red runs ‘round my ear
In the reflection, my head gleams
Brighter than a glassy bulb.
And the blood pulses
Uninterrupted by follicle forests
And this makes me happy.
The razor coos---
What a pretty girl!