I haven’t posted for a while because I’ve been absolutely overwhelmed with work. But I’m back and I’m better!
Since this blog is about my life in general, I’ve decided to share another part of my life. Here is a poem entitled 4C:
She turns the chair around…. do you like it?
I nod unconvincing.
Trying to figure out the exact problem with the mirror image that stares back at me.
Is it the smooth curls of hair that flow down my back?
Or the perfectly parted waves that I tuck behind my ear?
I shake my head, and with this small motion, I shake away the unsettling thoughts that filled my mind only a moment ago.
Could you lay my edges?
This… is this the thought that attempted to creep into my consciousness. That battered its carefully crafted cage, howling for attention.
Or is it the fact that this will never feel natural.
It will never be the same as the curls that spiral unapologetically from my scalp.
My soft gravity- defying crown.
That I suppress and repress despite my assertions of love and affection.
Because it’s easier. I’m protecting my hair
Well you could learn how to control it.
Because it looks better.
But how can anything that is fake look better than the real thing.
Because it’s more acceptable.
There. There it is. The underlying reason that pushes me back to this chair,every time.