that’s how it is these days

it’s a stiff limb. another bout

of paralysis choking me 

out of deep 

sleep with no excuse. 

it’s a squeeze tight

from the wrong 

person, wrong

place, wrong 

time. 

it’s a hair caught

in my eye—  ensnared 

the way i saw a lanternfly caught 

in a spider’s web and thought: 

good. for once it’s not my responsibility 

to kill it. i swat it 

away. watch it tumble back 

down in strands that think they’re tufts, 

a Sisyphean flashback

to the days where i still try to be 

feminine regardless

of what it means to be. long 

hair is a leash— so says one of those

“for display” cops they 

wheel into schools to give dubious statistics

as scare tactics. i remember now 

it was a bad idea 

to grow my hair out of boredom.

it’s never too late to sever

the dead weight. 

it’s probably the right 

decision but I will probably

learn to regret 

it.