Blogs

Hair

"I hate my hair!"

I screamed

And as the words fell out my mouth

I took it back

Because I immediately though of those cancer paitiens

Who had no hair to complain about

So I decided to stop the straigheners

Stop the blow dryers and the curling iron and the rollers

All the things that made me not what I really am

And instead I grew locks

Dread, Natty Dread

Whatever you want to call it

But I call it natural hair

MY natural hair

That is the longest it has ever been

That I twist daily

Wash with rachette shampoo

And smooth that real coconut oil

Through it's strands

Starting from the scalp

That now is black with hints of light brown

Because I tried to be different again

But no

Not even coloring

They will grow naturally

Silver strands in my hair

That's what I want

To tell of my age

To tell of my struggle

To tell that I am growing old

GRACEFULLY

One strand longer than the other

But not breaking away

Not falling apart because I put chemicals in it

Hair that can be pulled

And pulled and pulled

And won't break away

That's the strength of the hair

MY hair

Dread, Natty dread

That will still take the heat

Because I still need to look fly

Once I get a fresh twist

So yeah, maybe a hair dryer once in a while

Maybe curlers for a bouncy look

Pinned up, okay

Let loose – hang loose

Down to my back

Maybe my butt

No telling if I'll put a scissor to it

No-no!

Uh-uh!

Don't touch, white woman

I don't touch yours

Why you gotta touch mine

Yeah, it's real

From the roots to the tip

From the follicle to the hip

Dread, Natty Dread!

Roots natty, Roots Natty

And I can still flip it like you, white girl

I can still wash it like you, white girl

I can still wear it like you, white girl

And you can call me

RASTAFARI!

But even though I'm not a Crown Prince