Don’t ask for a hair tie
one of many on my wrist,
looped like quiet promises
I never meant to list.
Don’t take away my armor
just so you can fix your hair,
for PE, for passing moments
you don’t know what’s hidden there.
I’ll still give it, I always do,
with a shrug, a practiced grace,
but you don’t see the careful way
they circle round that place.
Each band a small protection,
each twist a soft disguise,
a barrier I built myself
to quiet restless eyes.
I thought the storm had faded,
that the need had slipped away,
but these little loops of fabric
kept the memories at bay.
Now you pull one loose and laughing,
never guessing what you’ve moved
how a fragile line of defense
has suddenly been removed.
So take it, tie your ponytail,
I’ll pretend it’s nothing, please
but know you’ve taken more than string…
you’ve loosened hidden seams.
Don’t take my armor lightly,
though it looks so small and thin
for what you see is just a tie,
but it holds what’s underneath within.