Hair me out

Sunday, April 9, 2017
Slay Magazine
National Poetry Month

Entangled in desires,

just trying to comb

out the details

to straighten out

the situation that

may come off a

little asymmetrical

if you’re looking from

an angle.

Uneven circumstances

give way to double standards split end decisions holding

on to different strands of perception.

Words cut deep,

blades of precision,

layering the highlights

of fifty shades of gray

hues of conditioning.

Bleached out settings rolled

up in a saturated array of

swatches, product too

heavy bound to wash it. Rinse and repeat.

Watch it get drained

out of lengthy extensions, figments of imagination fused in a process spiraling

Shirley Temples of redundancy curled in the fetal


Spritzing in to

hold the style. No

bouncing on me.

Pomade got you stuck

in a daze from the

waves and the grease

got you burnt again,

but she told me it was

just the heat.

I cornrow through just to keep it together don't mind

my messy parts I'm

relaxing and sleeping

on natural instincts

trying to find uniformity

in wild tresses of my

existence twisting just to

get blown out.

Touching up on the roots of fantasy,

unbeweavable results lacing the front up

while laying my baby's hair down as we sweat out

more than time under the dryer lustering for oil.

she's the deep treatment of my scalps manipulation helping absorb the nutrients that encourages us to grow and loc each other up in dedication

By: Xpanding Thoughts


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