There she sit in a fairly uneven wooden chair,
Polished so smooth just right to sit in.
Her face hiding behind gloved hands,
A towel to block her sense of smell.
An annoying fume sways making her feel dizzy,
Though she can’t really go anywhere.
She’s tapping her feet to the semi-clean floor,
As her hair is being massaged with blood red liquid.
Lean your head back,
I gotta get your hair line.
She did as she were told,
Holding back a cough,
Her eyes began to blur.
Thirty minutes to wait while you scalp numbs,
Gah! It itches!!!
Sitting on the edge of the couch,
Looking at him from over the towel.
Eyes lying, so he tells me, I’m smiling,
He’s laughing at me.
Yay! 7:30, hooray,
Time to rinse.
Once all the excess dye is gone,
I can condition it so that my hair doesn’t break the brush.
Time to blowdry it,
Straightening, then ponytail.
Oh my god,
My hair is dark purple. :]
