“Hair” and other poems by Kasey Shelley

My Name Is 1 Kasey 2 Bailer Kascerd Kasmeister Macy Bae 3 Casey Katie Tracey Lisa Chelsea Shelley 4 Bitch Slut Cunt Whore Prick tease Damp yoke 5 Kasim Kas Princess Hon Love Hard Work When the boy texts you to cancel your date, saying you’re hard work, say “OK”. Say “Thank you”. This will confuse him, obviously. He will be expected to respond with “How?!” “Why?!”, starting an argument, thus proving, you are hard work. When he writes back “what for?” you do not respond. When he texts you the next day saying “ah hun, babe” you still do not respond. He has already given up on something that did not have the chance to begin. Besides, you like men. Men who know what they want and go for it. Men who do not masquerade their own insecurities in yours. So you’re hard work because your walls are higher now than they were at what, sixteen? Well, he should now be taller than he was at sixteen. When you threw over a rope and he still refuses to climb. He is not worth it, not worth your time. You are not hard work. You are hardworking. You survive every day in this world. Through work, home, love, loss. Through your own mind. “You are hard work” Four words that will spur you on and give you more energy than Honey Boo Boo’s go-go juice. So write the poem. Sing the song. Get the fucking promotion. Work hard and become a better you. For you. One day someone will come to the wall. And before you even offer to throw the rope they will be scaling. Scaling brick by brick to get to know you better. Because you are worth that. So when the boy says you are hard work, say “Thank you. Thank you very much.” Impossible All over the world, Women chase the impossible Burning their skin with UV bulbs or bleach Trying to become the “right” shade Ignorant to the damage Or just screwed up priorities It is not their fault, They were taught this They watch their bodies, its size Step on scales and count calories As six-year-old girls ask “Mammy, am I fat?” The perfect brows, lips, eyes, cheekbones A flatter stomach but keep the boobs Straighter nose, whiter teeth, hair only on your head Don’t forget that thigh gap Seasons and generations dictate Insecurities and self-hatred No matter the flaw there is a solution and price tag They pay with money, tears and pain Do not blame them They were shown this A guy tells her he likes natural girls Like Kim Kardashian, Kim Kardashian How will she ever feel beautiful When even natural is distorted Supermodels photoshopped beyond recognition Striving to be beautiful When even the sexiest women In this world are not Women comparing each other With every percentage of their bodies “Who wore it best?” Dangerously competing with their own self We tell the world’s daughters to be strong and confident But we don’t allow their mothers to be Different cultures of the world decipher What is beautiful But the universal response screams “You are not” Hair The most common thing said about my hair Is how brave I am Well, it’s usually more like “Oh God I wouldn’t have the nerve to do that” Don’t get me wrong I get lots of compliments People stop me in bars or at gigs to tell me how cool it is Because it is But the general reception from women is how I was brave for cutting off us girls only superpower Psst – newsflash- I’m not fucking Samson My powers are in my kindness to others, my strange sense of humour and apparently, my ability to put words together and people call it poetry Maybe, I can but that super duper special wax and sculpt my hair into a spear and charge towards my enemy Until then, it is just hair In the two years that I have had my hair like this I have been asked twice if I am a boy Once, was by a child whose mother looked mortified while I laughed In fairness i had just done a 5K, hair scraped back in a man bun, sweat running down my face The second was on a night out by a man This was after he had already asked for my number So the way i see it, he found me attractive either way 1-0 to Kasey But I’m just so confused by this word brave Do you know what’s brave? Jumping off a cliff into the sea, swimming across to the next one and doing it again Telling your crush you like them even though there is a 93% chance they’re gonna reject you Reading a poem about your father hitting your mother, in front of your father and mother Battling a terrifying disease of the body or the mind Those are brave This? This was just a decision based on how badass Ruby Rose looked in Orange Is The New Black The Girl Won’t Delete Your Texts   The Girl Won’t Delete Your Texts We kept the texts they sent us. Declaring their love. Showing off to our friends. Giggling. Home alone we would read them back. Smiling. The women before us kept the letters. Keeping the physical proof for when the spoken words became nothing more than a memory. Using them to torture ourselves. To bring ourselves hope. The power of your words. The brutality of your indifference. Hair and other poems are © Kasey Shelley

Kasey Shelley is writer and poet from Dublin. She has been writing poetry since September 2016 and performing regularly in the Irish spoken word scene since January 2017. She has been published in magazines such as Flare, Harness and in the anthology Selfies & Portraits. She is currently working on her debut poetry book.