My hair started falling out.
Breaking off. Telling me no.
Screaming at me, punishing.
Money — funneled to
products, vitamins, serums.
Nearly prayed.
The blond, confused tangles
are just now starting to
understand again-
that I am in charge.
Small, brand new hairs
pushing their way through
my scalp, like tulips looking for
sun when snow is still
covering their sleepy beds,
whispering to the other
dormant things waiting to bloom
that by this time next year,
we will all be stronger.

We will form a crown.

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