like hair in my face on a windy day

like hair in my face on a windy day

like hair in my face on a windy day,
you crop up everywhere.

bob-pins, hair bands or clips;
slicked back or
tied up in a pony tail,
you still oust your bonds
tickling my nostrils,
scraping my cornea, and
scratching my lobes.

lipstick lives up to its name
with your stray strands, and
my nails bruise my chin
trying to pluck you off.

your lashings dump pollutants
on my cheeks,
clogging my pores and
giving me acne.

my hoodie doesn’t stop you
from snaking under and
getting in my face.

nosy neighbour. get a life.