“Straighten your curls.”
For your frizzy hair,
seemingly untamed,
you will forever
be ruled as different.
“Just brush them out.”
For your complicated hair,
seemingly wild,
you will forever
be ruled as loud.
“Straighten your curls.”
“Brush them out.”
“Will you just tie your hair?”
Why do you continue to be different?
Why do you try to be loud?
They’ve told me about it all:
de-frizz, de-tangle, de-stress,
de-lusional
is what they are for thinking it will just go away.
They’ve tried to cut it
but my lion’s mane comes roaring in.
On my best days it is all I am.
To suppress it is not an option.
My voice is frizzy.
Seemingly untamed, actually defined.
Different, as they’d call it
It speaks honestly, revealing harsh truth
I will not tie my hair to silence it.
My voice is complicated
Seemingly wild, actually free.
Loud, as they’d call it.
It screams to be heard,
I will not tie my hair to silence it.
My hair is a force of nature
A voice of reason
One to be reckoned with
It swirls and bounces to protect its peace
I will not tie my hair to silence my voice.
