Short History of a Daughter

in May I cut

my hair as short

as I dared

and stood before

you with bared

neck. and then


I didn't anymore resemble

the little girl who sat on your lap,

looking up,

with tresses forever-long. 

you saw a daughter all wrong:

dirty, marked, different, unshaven

(hair in all the wrong places).

where did she learn

things you didn't teach her?

to you I am

a stranger with a familiar name

but if you look for the long-haired

girl in your lap

you won't find

the woman

standing here. 

This poem is about: 
My family


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741