Hair

Strand by strand

Hot metal in the air, poised and ready to turn screw to straight

Forced to concentrate on the task at hand

I'm at the mirror for hours watching the transformation

Thick hair holding the comb up as it tries to part it for its intervention

It says it's not ready but the comb blazes through

Then the heat comes, and the hair sizzles and falls limp

My life is one transformation after another

Like my hair, I try to resist

I want to stay in the state I think is natural but there's something ripping me apart from it

And just as I recover from the separation the heat comes

I'm helpless to stop it; I can only watch it happen

Again... and again.... and again......

But my hair showed length and strength

And light and bounce and versatility when I finished

I can only assume

We've traveled down the same road thus far

I can only have a similar outcome.

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