In the 2nd grade
my hair was so long
it would get caught
in the screws
on the back of
my chair.

Tiny pieces would be
ripped out and left behind,
I’d be sure to collect
them so no one would
walk off with parts of me.

And not much has changed,
except now I don’t get
to take my parts back,
people walk off with
bits of me before
I even realize they were
close enough to take
anything at all.

—Lucy Quin