Baldness skips a generation,
But I’ve never met my father
And I don’t know if I was meant to lose my hair
At twenty-one
Asking a girl from her pillow
If she’d still think I was handsome
With my eyebrows burned away by
Holy water in my veins
For warding off the vampires
Like the stake in my arm, the garlic on my breath
Lending flavor
To endless gray hospital food
That they served me for a summer
After the wind blew off my hair
And it returned in the winter
The color of autumn leaves
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 6:50 PM UTC
Baldness skips a generation,
But I’ve never met my father
And I don’t know if I was meant to lose my hair
At twenty-one
Asking a girl from her pillow
If she’d still think I was handsome
With my eyebrows burned away by
Holy water in my veins
For warding off the vampires
Like the stake in my arm, the garlic on my breath
Lending flavor
To endless gray hospital food
That they served me for a summer
After the wind blew off my hair
And it returned in the winter
The color of autumn leaves
