Everyday it makes an appearance,
Coarse and spiked,
Sliding under my fingertips,
Grazing in my presence,
Embarrassing and annoying,
Staring in the mirror, it’s there,
Refusing to take up residence elsewhere,
Spreading as the days progress,
It’ll be there tomorrow without fail,
Maybe I’ll have one day without it but no more,
For it always returns.
Oh the joys of maturing into womanhood.
I’m talking about facial hair. What are you thinking of??