Hair Rituals

By Helen Openshaw

.

The pull of the brush,
knots and static.
I free myself
From the daily ritual.
Gleaming scissors hack through
The wayward strands,
But not my mother’s screams.

Helen Openshaw is a Drama and English teacher, from Cumbria. She enjoys writing poetry and plays and inspiring her students to write. Her words are in Green Ink Poetry, Words and Whispers, The Madrigal, Fragmented Voices, Loft Books, and The Dirigible Balloon. You can find her on Twitter @Pocket_rhyme.

Why we chose this piece: Helen says so much about mother-daughter relationships and the societal obsession with women’s hair in just a handful of lines. The diction is tight, the imagery visceral. That last line is an absolute gut punch.