natural roots
By Amy Myers
thoughtless days pound in my head,
but the absence of thinking
prevents my lying in bed.
i grow…yet in a backwards motion,
like an arrogant tsunami pulling in
all sides of the aggressive ocean.
my brunette hair creeps in from my roots,
reminding me of my overwhelming mind
that my bleached hair tried to mute.
my bangs fall heavy by the sides of my ears,
soon will they reach my chin;
something they haven’t done in years.
effortless growth with heavy intention,
perfectly crafted bleached and toned deception.
