I shaved my head today
I shaved the grey away
Not that I mind it
Not really anyway
Not that I sit awake
Thinking about my grey
I have other things
To fret about
To threat about
when the lights go low
and the time moves slow
I think and think
until my head explodes
then I think some more
until myself I bore
Why did I do that thing I did? you know the one, of course I do, that I did when I was in school
why does the fact that I did that, haunt me, still even today? another unique way that my mind proves there is not a lot anyone can say or do to hurt me more than I don’t already do to myself
I am quite sure, if that guy is not dead now, he has completely forgotten all about me and what I said and did
That’s not a very positive thing to say, now is it? But, the point is valid. Alive or dead, I’m not registering highly on his mind.
Particularly not if he’s dead. But, even if he’s not dead.
He’s not worrying about what 10 year old anyone said. Unless a 10 year old, a different one, not me, told him a terrible secret.
A terrible secret like he killed a man. But, that never happened. Unless it did.
I don’t have time or mental space to worry about grey hairs.
Not when I am wronging the rights and righting the rights of the most devastating and glorious times in my life.
In the twilight, as the stars shine bright. I can’t see them, as the curtains are drawn and I can’t see them, because I don’t want to stand. I can’t stand to see them.
So, I stay lying down, stay down, don’t stand, don’t take the majesty and mystery of the starlit sky into my eyes.
I just lie and tell myself tomorrow will be better and what has gone before can only shape me, not hurt me.
#
Thanks for reading!
Author's Notes: This was originally published through Scuzzbucket on Medium on April 21, 2025.
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About the Creator
Paul Stewart
Award-Winning Writer, Poet, Scottish-Italian, Subversive.
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Comments (9)
This event seems familiar but I can’t remember the specifics. No mind. Hope your mind is less preoccupied. I know how addicting thoughts can be. Best to ya!
I adore how you reinforced the feeling of past mistakes by mentioning how the character's mind is going back to school and being 10 years old. It made for a relatable piece!
First, I always find it important to assure men that grey hair makes them look distinguished, not old. There's something comforting about a man who's lived long enough to develop a few grey hairs. Shave them if you like (bald is also beautiful), but don't be afraid to wear them with pride. You had to survive much to earn them. Second, I loved the devolution of the brain worm. So relatable. Glad to know I'm not the only one up at 2AM hating myself for something I said to Jodi in the 4th grade.
I know this feeling well; how one thought leads to another and then suddenly your mind is going a million miles an hour!
The thoughts that bounce around in our heads. Another wonderful poem, Paul
This is so freaking relatable when the odd memory/regret pops up from school days and it's just like... why? The other person's unlikely to remember it, and they may not even remember you, so why worry? Why does the mind insist on lingering on something we can't control or change? The brain is so weird, and it's even weirder how don't have complete control over it. I know this poem is a lot more than the grey hairs, but don't worry. I bet fifty quid you look fabulous and amazing as always, Sir Paul! I've never met or seen a bad looking Scotsman or Italian before, so you're all good (doubly so).
That truly was a close shave, my friend!
Always enjoy the rawness of your work, friend. This part was so sadly beautiful: "In the twilight, as the stars shine bright. I can’t see them, as the curtains are drawn and I can’t see them, because I don’t want to stand. I can’t stand to see them." =*/ OMG
That felt so sad. Loved your poem, Sir Paul 🍩🥐