My hair is not a statement.
It does not require t-shirts, routines, questions or mantras.
This hair does not listen to me, combs, brushes or products.
She is tumbleweed, cacti and an ocean of numerous waves and curls;
My hair is a testament to my
Laziness. And of my intense dislike of any type of dryer, utensil, or shampoo
And it often seems that
She loves my neglect which is why she continues
To ramble down my back