Why God Gave Me Curls

    Soft curls from the root downward spiraling,
    Entwining in clusters, thick and inseparable,
    They cling together like best friends...
    And these strands are strong—

    They protect each other
    Photocredit: ShutterStock.com/TK0920
        From becoming weak and brittle,
        From snapping off under pressure
        From the dullness of drying out...

    They move as one:
    Supporting one another as they
    Stretch for European lengths and aesthetics...
    They coil back into themselves with ease
    —but sometimes with damage...

    They embrace each other lovingly
    Despite the irregular twists and turns
    The abnormal shapes of S's and Z'z...

    This melting pot of friends are survivors.

    Creamy crack addictions to chemicals
        —they curl and coil together
    395 degrees, searing punishment for defiance
        —they curl and coil together
    Drowned in lather, oils, water, products
        —they curl and coil together

    Survivors

    A story on my head,
    Of survival
    Of friendship
    Of love
    Always, in the mirror
    Always waiting to be shared.


    Published on Monday, March 28, 2016
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