PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Heat Damage


"Why did you cut your hair?"

"Heat damage." I'd say. In reality I was hiding behind the volume of my mane. I was tired of answering to the other girls,thought it was better to cut my curls.

Been taking coconut oil showers in hopes of locking in some mositure. "Your hair is hard to manage." It's not for you to handle in fact it's for me. I love my hair because it's a part of me.  At times my fingers get caught in my hair and you'd probably lose a pencil if you put it there. But my fingers ain't breaking no matter how much time it's taking to detangle my curls. The perfect shade of light brown although it used to be black. Every picture of long black hair is now a throwback.

Heat damage from straightening my hair, now there's only love for the kinks that reside here.

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

poeticdynesty

View all poems →

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (1)

olivialwsc
<p>i love this.</p>

Log in to leave a comment.