She used to wear that
crunchy hairspray
everyday of her life,
hiding behind the facade
of perfection
Inside, she was lonely
and wanted nothing more
than someone to hold her
But she was too scared
to let anyone pull a
single strand out of place

She was a creative
young soul with hopes
and dreams
She thought in nitty-gritty
details that she lived
to convey,
in hopes that any potentials
would understand her
and open up in unconditional
embrace

But that day never came,
until she met him
His soul was almost parallel
hers, and she found they
shared plenty of striking qualities
But his spirit was open,
so open that she couldn't
help but feel hers
soar along with it
And when he reached for
the roots of her strawberry
blonde strands,
still crunchy from all those
years of sticky, stationary
saturation,
she let go, and let him
turn every one of them
back to their limp, natural
state

It seemed that everything
was fine hereafter,
with her guard let down
in the arms of someone
she could trust
But it wasn't long before
she started clinging to him,
just as she had with
the strong, intoxicating
elixir that once held her
world together
And as he decided to
back away,
she could almost hear
him saying, "You can keep
your hairspray on,
'cause I'm not in the
mood to mess it up"

After that, the two young
souls remained good friends
And despite the ache
in her heart and longing
for affection,
she couldn't have been
more joyful
The hairspray tin stayed
on the bathroom shelf
from then on,
collecting dust and standing
as a reminder
that the facade of perfection
is no match for deep connection