by Crista S.
Fingers trail the edge of my hairline
Defiant they are
Bunches of black curly tight knots
Determined to surface
To reveal what’s concealed
Kissing sounds of frustration
Escape my teeth
Fingers roughly frolick through the straight limp dead ends
And hesitantly burrow down
Examining the coarseness beneath them
Twisting, curling
Against follicle’s grip
Twisting, pulling
Themselves…into existence
The struggle for a right to rise
To take back what was taken
Hands they hasten
The process is quick
The law is laid down
Over thick , coarse resistance
Silenced…the cries
Burnt scalp…the evidence of a continuing struggle.
Til next time,
Bahamianista
August 6, 2015Thank you!
Bahamianista
November 5, 2015Thank you
Bahamianista
January 5, 2018Hello. It was designed for me. Designer’s site is pinkdragondesign.com. Hope that helps.