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Flower
Poems
Sep 22
Curls
People tell me they love my curls
They're messy, frizzy, and spirited
Never tame or smooth
They remind me of myself in that way
It's funny though
How people love my curls
Until we have a dance
Or a concert
And then
The straightening requests begin
They always do
Almost as if
My hair isn't fit for a fancy event
No matter how much gel I use
My curls don't cooperate
The same way others' do
Does that mean they shouldn't be seen?
Should my curls be crushed with heat?
The older I get
The more it's starting to seem that way
Written by
Flower
14/F/USA
(14/F/USA)
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Lumin Guerrero
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