the wind makes my eyes water.
sharp and strong.
dark eyes, I close them as I walk.
stumbling. smiling.
strands of brown surrounding.
engulfing.
I am medusa.
across campus I trudge.
my bangs grown greasy by noon,
blown back from my face,
Im betrayed by my greatest security blanket.
the sunlight outside deceives me.
this is no day for comfortable walks,
tucking tangled strands inside my shirt.
itchy.
no day for strolling.
I burrow within.
trudging, stumbling.
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1 comment:
Try it with short hair. My hair gets oily after ten minutes if I don't even move. And, holy cow, my eyes water so bad from the wind. The last three Sunday mornings I walk into church looking like Kaz has been beating me - red face, watery eyes. It's sad. And LAST week I was wearing a wrist brace. Not a good combo.
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