Ponytail

It’s daily
The teeth
Fingers
Sand rakes?
We have sand rakes?

Stretching til a break
Gnawing like a beaver
Clawing like those buried alive seeking air.

Big teeth
Small hands
Is that 30 fingers?
30?
How?

Grabbing
Pulling
Scratching

My scalp is a burning patch.
No clear torch
But sparks everywhere.

Enough!

I put it in a ponytail.
Nope.
That just gives mom a handle.
Braid.
All the same.
Bun. Classic ballet bun.
Yeah.
No.
Nope.
They are tearing it down.

Arghhhh!

I’d shave it, but that is punishing me too.
I’d cut it in a pixie do.
But mom forced me into those my whole childhood.
The mere thought makes me want to vomit.

For now I stick to the dodge.
Swooshing like a ninja

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