Curly Hair.

I’ve got curly hair
A little past my chest now.

My curly hair
Comes from a strange mix
Of African-American
And Chinese blood.

I joined the swim team
In the fifth grade.
And the chlorine monster
Ate away at my ends.

I had to cut it.
It was too short,
And bleached and
Dead.

It took about three years
For it to grow.
I’m in ninth grade now.
And it’s a little past my chest.

I straightened my hair
One time, a year later
And everyone said
I looked better.

I straightened my bangs,
Dry and course
For a year and a half
Until I admitted to myself,

That I didn’t even like it.

So why was I doing it?

I cried in the mirror
On a Saturday afternoon
When I realized not even
A flat iron could tame my curls.

I’ve got curly hair.
A little past my chest now.

Girls with straight hair
Use curling irons!
And they want me
To get rid of what I was naturally blessed with?

How messed up is that?

People always tell me
I need to straighten it
I need to get rid of
My bouncy, dark-brown curls.

But what they don’t say
Is that they want me
To look
Just like everyone else.

Why would I want to do that?
Why would I want
To please you?
Someone who doesn’t like me
For what I look like.

HEY! I can’t help it!
But I sure wouldn’t want to change it.
It’s taken my three years and counting
To appreciate what I’ve got.

My curly hair.
A little past my chest now.