I am uneven, better as an idea than a reality. I tangle
and mess up. I often split. You can’t depend on me for the job
interview or web site photograph.

If you try to hide me in scarves or hats,
     everyone knows I lurk underneath,
and we all know the power of a bad haircut.

No one believes you were just unlucky
     to get the stylist with bandaged fingers.

     As soon as people see me,
they’ll think you are homeless or disturbed.
At best, incompetent.

I’ll take my time growing out.
     I’m having too
much fun.

Published in Illumens

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