I won’t feed your ego Or sugarcoat your ills I’m a real person with my own ideals Don’t flick through my clothes And tell me what to wear Don’t scan through my pictures And tell me how to do my hair I’m not your puppet And how that makes you feel, I really don’t care….


Coily, Curly Down my back Or in a pony These mangled locks Tell a story Of a sorted past Too complicated And Too distorted

Say It

You say it behind my back Hateration is your specialty. I beg you to face me And utter what’s weighing down your conflicted heart. List it all one by one Tell me all your grievances Until you reach a hundred and one Tell me my hair is too big That my curls are too unruly…