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I S A A C Jan 24
it is your birthday today, the first man to show me
there are layers to masculinity and femininity
and each layer you kissed
today I am led to reminisce
funnily enough, I still dream about you
you were the only healthy thing I ever liked
you were the only man who ever did me right
You washed me clean of my trauma and make me shine like pearls
I dreamt you met my momma and you kissed my curls
but you are happy now and I am too
maybe in the next life
I hope I can find someone like you
Kassan Jahmal Jun 2021
Letting off your despair,
looking ever so lovely today.
Let me run errands with my fingers
throughout your entire hair.

Those afro and curls,
how can I make you my girl?

What I see is what I get.
And once I have it, I won't regret.

Let go, and let go of your hair.

Seems wild to others, but tame in my eyes.
Running thoughts running in your hair,
telling me what's on your mind.

Going round and round with words,
tying knots to an issue with your curls.
Always to get on your nerves,
for speaking in vein of how I'm in love with your Afro & Curls.
Ironatmosphere Aug 2020
I found someone
who didn't remind me of him
Someone much better
If only he wanted me
colette alexia Apr 2020
He was all charisma, curls, and commitment issues
And ****** I fell for it
Mystic Mar 2020
I was always told my hair texture was bad.
So here comes the white cream.
The white cream is chemical hell.
I can smell it as I write this.
As I got older I realized the white cream took out more than my curls and coils that the Man upstairs scribbled for me.
It took away my temple hairs. It took my chances of having hair past my shoulders.
But the white cream never took my curiosity.
My never ending curiosity of what I would look like if the white cream never took my real hair from me.
My real hair, which was, is, and never will be “bad.”
Crystal Freda Dec 2019
burgundy braids braced
the back of her brass bed.
Raving ruby ringlets
ravaged royalty on her head.

autumn's aquired art
ablazed ambers of auburn.
crimison curls caressed
as carmine chromes churn.

vivifying vistas vibrate
vibrance with verbalized twirls.
Remembering rumbles of rage
rouged in her rancid curls.
mi Dec 2019
The devil has an angelic grin
As he holds your hand in secret
And whispers sweet little nothings in your ear.
The devil has perfect skin, striking eyes,
And a jaw that could have cut
Your wrists better than you will ever have.
The devil will write you poems
And speak to you in rhymes,
Fleeting little words,
Just to keep you from breaking apart
So he can keep playing
With your already aching heart.
The devil will come
When you are at your lowest.
He will come
with an outsteretched hand
Promising you heaven on earth
But, he will let go of you
right before you reach the top.

So you pull yourself up
like what humans do
in the face of adversity,
And when
you are on your own way to heaven,
Only then shall you meet your angel

Your angel will not have wings
To whisk you off your feet
And bring you to dazzling sights,
But he will have a smile
And more beautiful
Than any scenery.
Your angel will not look how you imagined him to be
all chiseled up and perfect like a Greek statue
But you will not be able to look away
From that crooked smile
Nor tear your hands away
From those coarsely cut curls.
Your heart will be full of his love
And you will feel safe
Even feel heaven on earth
perfection isnt always good
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