Allison Grace

Can I Hide Amongst the Creases?

The first time
I spent weeks
trying to work up the courage
to ask the hairdresser to cut my hair
Short
Like a boy’s
Held my breath as long blonde strands
fell to the floor
before she told me
that was as short as she could go
And careless anticipation turned to dust
in the eyes of my own reflection

The last time
I searched for words
until
each clumsily crafted sentence
wobbled its way together
Presented all my fears to you
in a one by one inch note
folded over almost to bursting
as if that would hide the words
and you asked me:
“Don’t all girls feel a bit masculine sometimes?”

By now
I’ve built my own armor
Carefully curated femininity
Designed to hide all hints of who I could be
Until I start to wonder
Who this armor is helping