Dragging me around by the snakes on my head
while you keep your eyes shut
won’t shut my mouth,
won’t tame the mutt.
Where you see snakes, hair once grew.
Straight hair, perfect for stroking
and perfectly fine to cover up cuts…
until they said I was provoking.
So they took their scissors,
they cut off my hair at the root.
Springs grew in its place,
bound locks they called cute.
And they grew in spirals,
black holes to swallow stars,
to blacken out the torment,
to hush agony’s scores.
Full on the energy of stars
my spirals began to shed and slither,
to scale up to defend chivalry,
to make all the men shiver.
Don’t drag me around by the snakes on my head
while you keep your eyes shut.
We see what you have done,
our words have already been said.
