Gathering my hair
with my right hand
my left stretches
any one of my
multitude
collection
protection
array of
hair tamers
shamers
restrainers
to subdue strands
and protect consumers
of viands.
It's ingrained
my hair to be restrained
my covering
inconveniently drifting
where it it ought
not.
rebellious
wild
curling and coiling
subject to the
opinions of all
never smooth
enough
never curled
enough
never long
enough
rough ends
too short
too long
tuck behind
your ears
show off
your face.
Tie it back
cook dinner
hair in the food?
Must be on purpose.
Deliberate defiant
Tied up for your comfort
Tied back to avoid trouble
Tied into knots of compliance
with notes of defiance
and cords of regret.
About the Creator
Judey Kalchik
It's my time to find and use my voice.
Poetry, short stories, memories, and a lot of things I think and wish I'd known a long time ago.
You can also find me on Medium
And please follow me on Threads, too!

Comments (4)
Nicely done, this definitely resonated with me. I feel your hair is an allegory for something deeper. We all most be "perfect" and fit the mold. Yet somehow, no matter how we try, it always seems we fall short in someone's eyes, usually our own. As a woman, I often feel my hair is a symbol of my feminity and mine lives in this crazy mostly curly but somewhat straight, always frizzy, never obedient state that I usually look at, sigh and say, I guess that will do.
Oooo, viand is a new word for me. Loved your poem!
omg yes, I both love and hate my hair!
Love it! Wishing my hair wasn't thinning and falling out in spots! I'm working on it! I told the dermatologist after hearing options, that I want my hair until I'm dead, and I don't expect that to be too many more years. So I need to be careful about what I do, after listening to some of her options.😉