O Curls

my 3a-3b locks

im sorry for the **** i put you through

all the bleaching, heating, and treatments

trying to make you something you're not

for the times i tried to make you the standard

thinking my uniqueness wasn't attractive enough

i hurt you but you had been damaged

long before the straightener

when that boy in the desk behind you would pull your hair

you pretended you didn't notice

when those white folks touched it without your permission

pointing & prodding like you were an alien

when people lost pencils and coins and spitballs in your tangles for amusement

only for you to find at your feet in the shower

When you were told to be straightened

to look “safer” and “more professional”

when he screamed  “shut the **** up medusa *** *****”

naming you as a monster to silence the both of us

the first time i singed you i was met with

“you should do this more often! it looks so much better this way!”

and in an instant the straightener became my drug

a one time thing became the fix i needed for instant confidence

finally i looked like i belonged

like the girls at my school, on TV and in magazines

I let myself believe that to love me, I had to erase you

you are, in fact, what makes me

people notice you before they notice me

But that is because we work together, you and i

to make this “mufasa roar”

I’ll nurse you through the damage the world caused

The damage I caused,

Because my hair will not be quiet for anyone that asks

Im sorry that it took this long

But thank you for teaching me how to be

unapologetic, unique, authentic

Thank you for teaching me

How to be me