My hair is a mess
but it's not like I'm trying
to impress.
Tossed to the side,
wind thrown down the middle.
Hands ran throught it
out of frustration,
sometimes even the reason
for a cancellation.
It's crinkled and tangled,
it's ugly like my cankles.
Pulled and tugged
by the different men
that I either
had or hadn't loved.
Visions of myself
with long and flowy hair,
only to see if
it would have made
you care.