I wake up and stare as you shine in glory. Whatever!
You don’t scare me.
You don’t define my past or future.
You tried to take my self-esteem.
You almost did.
From the moment you took my scalp, I feared the stares, points, and eyes of sympathy.
Take yo tired and weak strands and get a life.
Mine is not for the taking.
Yeah, you made me cry waiting for healing power.
I separated the two.
Healing is in my soul. My strength.
Power is my words I speak as I remove you from lips.
My lips speak no words of sadness.
They only spit the truth.
My truth is free from the weak strands.
I’ll never accept you.
But I’m not sad.
Sadness is an emotion far from my tears.
My tears have turned to joy.
Joy of accepting your shine and glory.
Yes. We were meant to be.
Alopecia. Thank You.