Kendra Tarbill 
submitted this poem to our site...

The Belinda Complex
by Kendra Spring Tarbill

My hair is red.
I try
I really do
Not to let this fact
Over-take my senses;
Float my ego
Till it bounces
Against the ceiling
Like a refugee
Balloon.
I try
Alas
In vain.
For is it not vain
To fawn over it
As I do?
Stroking and brushing
And not even blushing
When strangers
Gush over it, too.
I mourn
The few shorn
Inches 
As they 
Drop
Littering
In auburn
Copper
And bronze
The pristine
Tiled
Salon floor.
As I settle
My gaze
On my 
Red
Severed
Beauties
I imagine them 
Joining
The stars in the sky.
Vanity
Unfettered
Unchecked and 
Ah heck
Not entirely
Undeserved.
There are those
Who will rail
Against this
Exercise
In frivolity
And yes
Heads will be 
Shaking
In disbelief,
But I'll wager
Not one of them
Will be a redhead!