Because Bald is pt. 2

Because Bald is

Not beautiful. It's sick. It's "lesbian". It's stared at. It's the video taken when trying to eat out with your family. It's whispering.

Because Bald is

Your uncle who gets drunk at your mothers' Christmas party. The red wine sits untouched in a bottle on the kitchen counter but your fathers' beer is soon nothing more than a pile of slightly crushed cans.

Because Bald is

The old men who sit in the local restaurant for hours every Saturday morning. Each one trying to boast their chest a little more. Each one wearing a ball cap- either navy, tan, or black.

Because Bald is

Not a sixteen-year-old girl. Who's junior prom is moments away. Who's yearbook photo will be ripped from the page. Who wants nothing more than the hair that she once complained of so much, to come back.

Because Bald is

Now the only definition of heartbreak that lasts for more a few months. Its fingernails grew into claws that will forever latch onto these years, the ones meant to be filled with pictures, and smiles, and youthful excitement. Now scorned, scarred like the mountain from the forest fire that too left the earth bald- blackened.

Because Bald is

Now permanent. It's what is to be lived with every day, from the moment you wake up until the moment your mind finally allows you a few hours of peace... but even those hours of peace are interrupted. The dreams, oh the dreams- sometimes you're scalped, other times you rip it out with your own hands, sometimes you're hung by the few remaining strands, others you're ensnared in a trap left to shiver like an animal.

Because Bald is

Not beautiful.

Not now, not when it "grows back", not when it falls out once more, not when your mother promises, not when your boyfriend leaves, not when your friends try.

Because Bald is

Me.

Always.