PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

My hair is so…..Unapologetic

Unapologetically black

With its kinks and naps

Sometimes makes me feel like I’m trapped

While others have the ability to manage

I couldn’t 4C myself being blessed with the misfortune of the roughest

of curls & coils

Why couldn’t have been given the gift of “good hair” like all those other girls?

While others were in pigtails I was rockin’ rough and stuff with my afro puffs

That’s where the seed was planted of self-hate

Why can’t men just love my hair in its natural state?

Oh yeah, that’s right

It’s ‘cause the imagery portrayed in society has only perpetuated one type

Among you

Since when did it make it okay for us to judge one another based on a bunch

of extra protein?

You know what I mean?

My hair is so….Out of line

I frequently run out, of, time to actually do it

I’ve literally had to it up here with home girl

Having to undo an updo while trying to

Maintain my failed attempts to tame her

She’s a wildchild now

My hair is so…bad

The worst kids I’ve never had

It misbehaves like Bebe’s Kids

It just refuses to be tamed

Those knots never die, they just multiply

And the instruments to keep them line,

Let’s just say they ain’t neva scared

They act up, act left

Acts tough, gets tangled then acts right

they make me ashamed to know them sometimes

especially The way they act up in public

My hair stays showing out whenever the least bit of moisture tries to talk to it

But oh no miss girl must be humbled by each weather element

Under the condition of which way the water falls

 My hair is…… bougie

Throw a weave in her and she’ll act like she doesn’t even know your name

Her main focus is to take your focus off of the mane-tenance that comes with her

So rather than continue to mane-tame (maintain) a natural look

Her only objective is to look natural

Her demeanor changes with the each style

She can make you fall in love with her until those coils come back around

From Macy Gray to Beyoncé in zero point five

When she’s complete, I feel my personality come alive

The sound of what would resound as a thousand apples being bitten

at the same time

The way we battle against one another, that’s sublime

The war between naps and comb should be a crime

She makes me sick! Roots so thick that the Nile wouldn’t be able to run

through her

But the bond we share, I….. hate her but I love her at the same damn time

She used to be able to make or break my confidence

Until I learned to embrace her

That’s the versatility of the black woman

Super powers replicated never duplicated

Wonder why they call it black girl magic?

You ever seen us transform with just our hair

We have the ability to be a plethora of different women

That’s why I never understood how the black woman is the most cheated on

race of women

When we literally have the abilities of a chameleon

Woven together by the stitches of our weave, extensions

[play on words for lace front]

My hair….

Is NOT broken

So I wish you’d all stop trying telling me to fix her

Got switching elixir after elixir

And each mixture attempts to transform her into something she’s not

My hair is a statement of pride

She’s where my heritage resides

She lives inside of my head not just on top of it

The ability to make the world turn from right side up to upside down

She’s my crown

She’s everything that makes me a queen

My hair is so….

Beautiful

Be-you-tiful

be you to the fullest

It is literally one of my best features

It makes me

Me

I’ve learned to love her

And I won’t allow anyone else to make me ashamed of everything we’ve

gone through

From skin heavily kissed by sun

To the kinks and naps that makes us one

I’m proud

Because of who she is

Is everything I'm trying to become