#curlyhair
Your curls have my fingers
So tight they won't let go
I could live here, hands on your head,
myself, your cargo.
Take me far away from here,
Around this great blueberry.
I'll ride high on your shoulders,
Or walk when you get wary.
At night, sleep, face up to the moon,
Your scalp set in my palms.
I'll tell you things about the stars,
my gentlemen in arms.
Mar 24, 2025
Mar 24, 2025 at 3:44 PM UTC
Where did you come from how did we end up in the same place it couldn't have possibly been a mistake.
You and your smile came into my space when I felt it was too late, at a time that i thought i could only make mistakes.
And its only been a few days but is it wrong to say that you make me feel some type of way.
You say everyone loves the way your hair just sits on your shoulders just so fair but would you believe me if I told you i just don't care how much you say they like your hair the way i like it is a lot more rare
unlike them i can get lost in every curl of your hair and how each strand has a different way of curling.
I want to know what was it that made you deny a compliment because the moment i say you're cute you think its your que to shut me down.
The attitude you have in not showing too much care tends to slip up here and there but i know you still don't care even if its not fair i think I'm willing to take the dare that is liking a girl with such curly
hair.
Jul 16, 2019
Jul 16, 2019 at 12:56 AM UTC
she walks through the door.
she walks through the door.
she walks through the door-
her hair was so big and curly she must've been hiding millions of secrets in it and i wanted to know them all.
she was small but i could tell she could handle herself and all i wanted was to put my hands on her.
she moved past me and laid her hand on my back and i was five years old laying on the sidewalk, it was mid july and all the yards around me were emerald pools. the remanence of lemonade danced on my tongue, that was the last time i could remember being warm.
she touched me and i felt the sun on my face.
she walked through the ******* door and i was warm
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 7:43 PM UTC
I want honey and fresh roses at my doorstep but only from you. Is it wrong that I don’t want to be loved by anyone but you? I’m afraid I’ll get hurt again because the last boy with curly brown hair left me in the dirt for me to swallow pain meds and anxiety pills just to make it through. I'm sorry if I’ll never again be able to open up to love again as I did with him, I don’t want you to turn into a stranger who holds my darkest secrets. I want you to love me like rainbows after a storm and soft kittens cuddling up to say goodnight. I want you to love me. Love me.
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 9:20 AM UTC
I knew he was afraid of love from the moment I met him. A fear of commitment and a smile that could **** All of the sudden he faced his fears and loved the girl I was afraid of losing him to, now I have a fear of trusting boys with killer smiles and curly hair.
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 9:07 AM UTC
let's imagine a time when I hated this skin I'm in.
way before ink ever flowed through this pen.
when I was never proud to be told I was
Tanio Indian.
the blacker the berry
the sweeter the juice.
no the blacker your skin the closer to your roots,
and the further black people
will stray away from you.
you'll be called names
that would break even the strongest
to their delight.
you can be beautiful
with long hair.
but their not even aware.
chasing another girl with black skin
yet more fair.
now I'm standing in the store searching though the creams
yes guys.
young black girls do these things.
mom calling your phone,
but your not done
looking.
for the one that works
as the mirror stares at you,
hoping your wishes come true.
turn this dark skin into something
more pleasing for you.
unaware of the tears
that are always there
clouding your vision.
so you can never see the truth
that you are the most beautiful of the two
Brown Queens
this is for you
sometimes you are the only smudge in the room.
we are ignored, chastised, and cast aside
for most of our young lives
until you wake up on your own and realize
those pictures on your phone don't represent women like YOU
women with the perfect hue
never a blemish or imperfection
could ever be seen by the likes of you
and you finally understand the attention
was always on you
veiled by insults you couldn't see through
little brown girls with curly hair
you matter and your skin does too.
that was something I could never tell myself
but then again I had no help from young women like myself
cause most of them wishing they was Gina
we still don't get what that representation means
how Pam had a connection to queens.
but how auspicious they've made the cover up
it never really had quality
but means to further divide our people away from black equality.
Jul 18, 2017
Jul 18, 2017 at 8:13 PM UTC
My curls are everything you wish you knew about me
But it won’t reveal my inner mystery
My hair means young, it means wild, it means free.
My Latina nature sometimes precedes my personality
People try to tell me who I am and they whisper, “I bet she…”
My curls are everything you wish you knew about me
He says, “I know about you Latin girls…” but the only one who can enlighten me about me, is me.
To them I’m nothing more than another Jenny from the Block, but I’m not here to entertain you, let me educate you
My hair means young, it means wild, it means free.
My curls exude confidence, beauty, and *** appeal; they keep secrets, create dreams, and remind me how bright I expect my future to be
My hair does define me. But not as you define it, as I do. I am everything I believe my hair means
My curls are everything you wish you knew about me
Latinas are fierce, they are fire, and they are dangerous. Maybe we’re that way because you won’t let us be.
Can I just be me? Why do I have to be the person you want me to be?
My hair means young, it means wild, it means free.
I’m tired of society’s shackles, so I ignore what society expects me to be
I love my curls, I love them when they’re frizzy, unkempt, and unruly. My curls are me.
My curls are everything you wish you knew about me
My hair means young, it means wild, it means free.
~Karina
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC