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I have long fingernails

My nails are real long
I have long nail beds,
I have big hands.
It’s hereditary.
But I don’t like the fact that my nails are long.
It means I haven’t been working, It means I haven’t been moving.

I’m pretty sure my great grandmother didn’t have long fingernails.
It’s pretty hard to pick cotton and clean clothes on a washboard
And manage to have long nails.

Long nails are something I can enjoy.
Yes, because of my great grandmother, but also because of my grandmothers
My grandmothers never wore their nails long.
Cooking for 8+ kids every day wouldn’t allow it.
And if they had nails, slapping one of those children would leave more than a scar to their pride.

But I have long fingernails
because all I’ve got to cook for is myself,
And I still use the dishwasher
Plus my washer and dryer work just fine.

My mother has nice fingernails,
But she makes sure she keeps them short.
She can’t be bothered by the constant chipping away when they decide to grow out a bit.
She’s never been to a nail salon
And even though I’ve proposed to take her for a ‘ladies day’
We’ve never made it.

So my nails are long.
I don’t like it, but I’m thankful for it.
I can grow mine out, shape them different ways, paint them, and flaunt them.
I’ve got zero reasons to cut them,
But when they start chipping again I won’t trip,
Because I’m able to cut them off and grow them back again.

(c) 2016

Published in Personal Poetry


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