A Change In Appearance
… and so then I decided
to dye my hair black
but somehow it came out
red. Stained the tops of my
lobes in the process - my ears now
constantly burning. I thought to
myself ‘Why not put your hair
up like those models and guys
in the movies? A man bun?’
Mine came out more like
a deflated scone, its leaking
contents my hair: straggly and
errant like bitter strawberries or
sour milk – the difference I’d
hoped for not entirely a
success. I’d seen my reflection in
a store’s mirror broken, cracked.
My body slewed across one surface
cut in two. ‘Why can’t I be more
like him?’ ‘Why can’t I look like
them?’ Questions pasted over my
face like powdered arsenic; make up
revealing my flaws rather than
covering them. A change was
needed. A reinvented me. And
so, then, I decided to dye
my hair black. But it came out
red.
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