hacking it off in May

Cutting Ties

I know the statement that a
short cut puts off to society:
“Screw your female ideals
I’m sexy in my androgyny”
either that, or “I like pussy”

and I know you tend to like a kind of
those girls whose hair is shorter than
yours; the ones who smell wild like blood
and sex, with their septum piercings and
shallow paintings – ones with elaborate
clothing, expensive habits, and who
self-destruct like fireworks
that explode over and over again

but I am nothing like that. I smell
like Dove shampoo, wear simple shirts,
and there’s a different metal in my body.
What I’m really after
is the irony
of that look on me

so I’m going to cut off all my
hair, my long long hair, and
with it all the memories that
it carries, the frayed splits
and dead ends, the last years
of my purest naiveté, my most
meaningless wastes of time;
I’m going to stop holding it
back with elastics and bobby
pins and big jaw clips and
stick barrettes and just cut
it loose, so maybe I can lift
my head for the first time since
everything stopped making perfect
childish sense and run the course
without the weight of the past
on my shoulders and in my eyes
I’m going to cut all my old ties