I’ve always had a rocky relationship with my hair. Sure, I love the way it is now, but have I always been this way? Definitely not. A few hours ago, I was tying my hair up in a braided crown, my fifth hairstyle of the week, and I asked myself why I could never stick to one style, why I have to change it several times a day. While I do love art and I consider hair styling as a form of art, maybe the reason I style my hair constantly is to make up for the number of hairstyles I could have done but never got the opportunity to do so.
My dear poet do you think that
you are simply not up to par?
You write poems by your bedside,
ones that you are too anxious to show.
But alas you wither away in tears
when not a single soul propends towards
the poems you compose.
The first breath a newborn takes starts a countdown towards their last,
but My Girl, her breaths count upwards.