Heat,my enemy

My eyes were focused on my mother as she attempted to tame my sister's hair,

Heat and hair spray more grease heat and hair spray filled the kitchen, 

The fumes took over the house and I wasn't sure if this was a hallucination or the sad truth,

I asked her why every week would she do this to her,

My mother rolled her eyes and told me, "The straighter your hair the prettier you are to them."

Them? Who was she talking about? I couldn't wrap my head around it at the time but now as I'm older and on my own No amount of heat or even the grease could show my true beauty,

I sat here for years, strand after strand  burning my hair until there was no more left,

Trying to find the definition of beauty because my mother told me that we were only accepted if we had Eurocentric feautures,

I couldn't blame her because this was now my future,

The untamed hair that grew out of my scalp was my beauty and no one could take that from me