I imagine that when I die and am buried
My Hair will keep
growing
Creeping through every crevice of the coffin
Usurping all the tiny holes made by worms and blind creatures of below
Filling all the hidden spaces like water
Until it explodes into
a fantastical tree made of a million wisps that float in the air like careless clouds

And as my frame lets the flesh fall away
It cares not if my body was once blemished or fat or wrinkled
My bones are beautiful
My Hair will find every curve and cranny of their chalky surface
And cover them
So that what I can’t contain in life
in death
will become my comfort
and protector.

About the author...

Bec Willett is an Australian Chicago-based director, designer, and writer who is pretty damn chuffed to be featured in this month’s issue of Scout and Birdie! She has written about the Chicago theatre experience for The Clyde Fitch Report and is proud to currently be part of the reviewing team at Perform.ink. In 2016, her short play The Queen of Lakeview was featured in 20% Theatre’s Snapshot’s Festival. To find out more about Bec's work and upcoming projects, please visit becwillett.com.