THE FOLLICLE CHRONICLE
By: Dee-Dee Carter
One morn while showering for work, I noticed a congregation of untamed locks accumulating on the shower floor…
Didn’t pay that much attention just another collection,
Just brushed it off as stress and strain,
Hoping and believing it will just be momentary, just as the summer rain,
Trying to style the thinning strands being creative as a ballerina’s dance,
Coming to the conclusion that something had to be done,
Shuttered the thought of a BALD DOME…,
I contacted my doctor and made my appointment,
Wearing shades and the largest brim to hide my shameful identity
The fragrance of disgust swallowing my serenity
My name was called as I bowed my head, tipping quietly wishing I was dead,
The Doctor was cheerful, piercing the overpowering sterile atmosphere,
I whispered my concerns, as I removed my brim, reluctantly and throbbing revealing my sin…,
She tenderly examined my entire scalp as if a traveler would digest a map.
I waited with apprehensive breath thinking the worse Cancer at best,
She took a seat and reached for my hands, tears streaming down as I watered the ground.
She replied, “You have Alopecia, an immune system that attacks the hair follicles; for now, there is no cure.”
I removed my hands quickly and swiftly and I responded just like this. “I have who, what, and when?”
“Where did it come from? And do you have pills or a liquid so I can live?”
She cleared her throat as to make a speech, I held up my hand, “You don’t have to preach.”
I left her office in a rush, believing my whole existence was crushed.
Fumbling my keys in hasting denial, I kept reassuring myself it’s only a trial,
Slowing surveying my surroundings, as my heart was erratically pounding,
Cautiously removing that prison of my brim, my balding reflection in that looking glass, made me grin.
Reminiscing that moment, I spoke boldly and proud, “I vowed I will not be a prisoner, enveloped in a shroud”.
Dashing home while conquering my fear, I grabbed the required equipment that sealed the deal.
Revealing the smoothness that felt like exquisite velvet, I whistled while admiring my new helmet.
I have crossed and conquered humanities definition of elegance.
As I proudly display my own unique exquisite-ness.
