I was taught
That kinks and curls
Were only "pretty"
On little girls
Once you reached
A certain age
You simply must
Keep your hair at bay
Girls of color
Don't let them say
Your beautiful fro
Is just a disgrace
Don't fall into the trap
That is self hatred
Love yourself
The way you were made
And if you choose
To tame your curls
Do it for you
Not the rest of the world

Love or lust?
Truth or trust?
Rain or rust?

I know this is a place for poems, but I believe the 22nd will be my last day on here for awhile..

looking down while I hear shouting
“It’s all your fault”
I want to cry
I want to shout back
I want to scream
do I not have feelings?
can I not speak?
frustrated and angry
my lungs are filled
the burning sensitivity in my throat
I can sense the sobbing
I run to my room
the only comfort that was given to me
I can’t cry
I can’t shout back
I can’t scream
the throbbing of my heart against my chest
the clenching of my fists
the waterfall running down my face
the ripping of my hair
these human sensations
yet the pain inside will not go
is my soul shattering
broken
cracked
I feel nothing

Don't you dare tell  me I am beautiful.
Until you have seen my scars...
That are craved into my body,
and the blood that pours out of my soul..

Don't you dare tell me I am lovely,
until I completely shut you out of my life..
Because I swore to myself,
you are just like the others and you will get sick of me.....

Don't you dare tell me I am flawless,
until you have seen me break down in tears..
I will show you the darkness  that's inside me that's consumes me,
and you will run away form me...

But  if you,
have seen my scars,
my bitterness,
and darkness...
Then I might believe you....