She comes undone
Her braids come undone every 2 months
She uses shampoo and conditioner and a fine toothed comb
Brushes are out of the question for a mixture of 4c and 4b hair
She makes sure to pile on the Shea butter and pink the smell is always lingering in her bathroom
She always combs the front more than the back for some reason it's an odd habit
She comes undone like the thread you pull out of your shirt that always seems to keep going
Like when emotions bottled up in you are finally stirred and the waterfall erupts from your eyes
She unravels like a person so entrapped in their lies that the only choice they have is to tell the truth
Like the boy in her class who always seems to be triggered by things others have no problem with
She's a dangerous thing but sits quietly patiently serene
Laughing the loudest at mundane jokes giving the most when she has nothing left to give
The "black girl" the one who's stereotyped
and pushed into labels that turn into prison cells
She comes undone
How does one have so many scars carved in her chest have so many hands around her neck so many restraints on her legs that pain is no longer a fear
But losing herself the one she didn't even know existed the one that would've been her if it wasn't for society's expectations of her.
She's only beginning to find her to find the pieces of herself scattered around and hold them together making sure she doesn't burst open
But she doesn't know if it can last
Because she comes undone... like everyone else.
YOU ARE READING
Moonlight ( A collection of poems)
PoesiaMy collection of recent poetry and older poems as well. Updated sporadically :) Contains mature topics
