It’s time, she says
to concede
to gracefully bow
to the inevitable.

She cares and tries
to break it gently -
that my adherence is -
with all due respect
a mockery.

Spring is here -
summer beckoning -
time for change -
time for acknowledging.

Burn wood –
dead and useless -
start anew
go for sassy
go girl,
go!

She has my best at heart
only looking out for me afterall -
doesn’t want to see me
fall.

And so the bullet is waiting
to be bitten,
memories of Samson echoing
as I hand my follicle fate
into the brutal hands
of Cruella, the hairdresser.