16 good years
It’s probably a pain I will never get over
The wounds I am now attending to
I didn’t even know they were there
Every time I came back from the barbershop, the only thing I’d long for is for my hair to grow back.
I never wanted to look like a boy
I never wanted to cut my hair
I’ve read so many articles, they said what I need is patience
Can I wait sixteen years more?
Why did I have to suffer this
For what reason?
It’s the only thing I think about that instantly brings tears to my eyes
To my unborn children, do not worry, if it so happens that you will enter this insane reality through me as a portal, I will not administer this wickedness to you
This cruelty, this heartache
You will have choice, you will decide what to do with it
You will get to live with your hair and every other part of you
You won’t have to wait till you are older to live with a part of you that is so natural
But can I wait sixteen more?
To my hair, I love you so much, I promise to take care of you, so please promise me that you grow down to my knees by the time I am older
I know men will never understand what hair means to a girl, so I will stop expecting them to.
I love you
I promise to take care of you
I promise to love you
To my hair in sixteen years.