Bring Me My Wig

Bring me my wig and I shall keep it on forever.

Yes, the wig that is hidden in the back of my closet.

Yes, the wig that only three souls know I wear.

My mother,

myself,

and Mr. Mittens the cat.

What is my fear?

You dare to hear?

Why,

my dear

my fear

is the wind blowing my cover.

Literally.

my fear

is my cat talking 

about the nine awkward bald spots 

on my head.

One for each of his lives.

my fear 

is my mirror snitching on me

how I cringe every time I pass by.

Always passing by,

never stopping to take a good look.

my fear

is my photos leaking

and my tears never drying

and the excuses to every pool party never stopping

my fear

is me

never burning the wig

that tortured me for so long.