Just cut it off and be free

I was tired of the conformity,

I had finally found myself.

The braids hid the real me,

Long and black,

Suffocating my true self.

The words were thrown,

Like blows from hands,

You have no hair,

Black is not beautiful,

Scars mark your face,

Silm down some.

That would not deter me,

For I found myself,

In me,

Happy and full of vibrance,

A melanin queen,

With hair so kinky,

So coiled and untamed,

Tears spilled from my eyes. 

I cut my hair to my neck,

To be au natural,

The best decision ever.

I was called a slave,

A mere poof of a cloud,

Words do not phase me.

I am me and me is kinks,

Stuff that is forbidden,

That girls change,

To conform to society,

But those days are gone for me.

I love me for me.

I cut my hair a year ago, 

I realized who I really was for once, 

A black girl who wanted to be free.

Free of straight hair,

And prefect skin, 

And a dull shape.

No!

I was much more,

A brown skin,

kinky haired,

curvaceous soul,

A full smile for anyone,

Wishing for their acceptace.

This poem is about: 
Me

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