my hair brushes my hips,
long and glossy
with hundreds of split ends,
it is my pride and joy
in two years it’s grown a foot and a half
to make up for my freshman haircut mistake
I haven’t used heat on it in six months
and I’ve hair masqued, all naturaled, and oiled it up

but it’s holding me down,
tying me to this earth
the very weight of it,
the tension on my scalp,
causes a constant headache

vanity is a strange thing
I despise it and yet I weep every night
as my haircut comes closer and closer

for the first time in my life
I will have short hair and I dread it

I will tell the hairdresser that I’m sorry about the tears,
it’s nothing personal,
I’m just cutting off a two foot piece of myself.