Thread me

I am seated atop a salon chair,

Come hither merciless thread,

And rip out my upper lip hair,

Until my skin turns crimson red.

Pluck it all out,

From the corners of my mouth,

To the point below my nose,

While I hold a sturdy pose,

Or display a duck-faced pout.

Pluck it out from below my chin,

pierce all areas of my skin,

Shape my eyebrows; overgrown,

show the world, parts of my face they've never known. 

Be a good thread and shred, 

All unruly growth off my face, 

Before it grows and spreads all over the place.