There’s nothing wrong with trying colors that suit you.
But do you know what is wrong?
Judging them, saying they don’t suit you.

There’s nothing wrong with the meal I made—
Judge your own tongue, we got different preferences.

There’s nothing wrong with my taste, my style.
You know? It feels good to be comfortable in my own skin.
I exude confidence. You? You breathe hate and envy.

Nobody gets the style of my hair.
You laugh at it.
My hair? It weeps for me.

My hair and I go way back.
We got histories. Pity. Sob stories.
But it’s ours. And it’s beautiful.