Leave my crown alone!

My hair was never meant to be straightened.
My kinks are my origin. 

They curl, locking in my identity.

I wear this crown not to please you, 

Definitely not to abide by your rules.

My hair is my blackness. 

Unapologetic, unashamed and non of your business.

My hair is not an anomaly or a taboo.

Just because you don’t understand it, 

Don’t mean I should change it for you.
Let me tell you what should change, 

You misconstrued social construct.

That a black person must renounce themselves 

To feed onto your ego.

The fake pedestal you build 

That blackness is something needing change.

That we identify as human when we 

Have adopted your ways. 
This crown, I will wear it. 

Free, untied not hidden.

In your face!

So that you can trace my roots.

In each strand.

I am of plenty and of black.

I do not lack anything.

Leave my crown alone!!! 

#blackhair ✊✌


The Insomniac Protest

Spend time awake
Make it through the night
Writing, talking, walking, living
For the morning will come
With tiredness if you close
Your eyes…..
Sleep is for those who
Never wake
Those who cannot make
Changes in their state.
So you have to use up time
When darkness blankets the sky.
Because somewhere its morning or day
So there are many ways to
Not sleep but keep up
Eyes open, inspired by silence. 
Don’t rush to sleep.
It is no lie
That we will die
And you will sleep then.


Love knows no ‘zone’.

We use the terms casually now, ‘friend zone, ‘family zone’, school zone’, as if we refer to objects with no emotions. We laugh behind people who lay their hearts bare for us to see the openness in their ‘falling for you’. Because it is impossible to love a guy you have known for so long. But we are so busy loving people we have never met. We stay up late drafting letters without addresses just so the paper could catch our fear and keep it.

‘They are all the same’, we say, when our broken hearts beat helplessly on the ground on which we praised people we honored like royalty when we were nothing to them. We drain our bodies of tears as if we will be whole again. Even after such dreadful experiences, we think we know we will always live another day. In some way, we fake our happiness in waiting for love. Waiting for someone we have weaved tirelessly in our heads and continuously to make them come alive. And they never.

And yet we are choosy. When a genuine guy narrates the fateful tale of falling and the longing to taste our lips, we deny them even of a touch. Because we are so in love with someone we have never met, someone else. So lost in the maze of finding true love. We are lost because we try to find that which needs to find us. We are lost because those we have imprisoned in ‘zones’ are the very ones we could be loving this moment.

Time is never certain and we hold no power. We don’t have the strength to become lovers not when we are swayed easily by clothes, cars, cash we sometimes sweat for at night. Writing stories to be hidden but stay as proof on bodies as fingerprints and fading cologne and cigarette smokes and this and that. We search for love in bad boys leaving brothers whom we grew up with. Brothers we have learnt to trust while young minds were soft and never kept bad memories. Brothers who saw us naked many times and all they saw was beauty. Instead we love those women’ sons who know not the struggle. Who subconsciously pressure us to become women before we are girls. To become mothers before we are wives. To become theirs before ourselves.

Those who let you in and have been there, are those who have loved you even before you started on a journey to find love. Love was always there. Love is here. And time? Keeps on going.

No make up needed.

‘Beautiful’ is you.

Who spends time looking for truth

On glass that reflects what you want to see.

The world may not say it

but your hair, body and skin make you.

Just the way you are.

Your skin color is your own shade.

No need to cover up with powders

and conceal your natural tattoos.

You are more than that.

More than lashes you struggles with

or the blushes you highlight your cheeks with.

More than eyebrows you tweeze in pain

in order to gain likes on social media.

By people you haven’t even seen.

Your hair is that way

To make you unique to the world.

No need trying to fit in

With imported hair to look different.

Because what you are running from

is what others are running into.

Embrace those curves

Leave your hair be

You will see that ‘Beautiful’ is you

Who shies away from cultural heritage

and hiding behind who you are not.

Dresses and skirts are not for the old only.

No need putting on pants to prove a point.

You are more than that.

More than jeans and jackets

You are still powerful nonetheless.

We were never supposed to be the same body shape,

shade nor size.

We were born to be wise and love us first.

Beauty is different and beauty is you.

Not what you make yourself be.

While we breathe

We live in a world were we can never be more than what others say. The way we have enclosed our lives and put them in the hands of others has left us empty. We consider what other people feel and not what we feel deep inside. We let our opinions slide because we don’t want to speak the truth for all it is. Undress its pain and bathe in tears for a moment. We have forgotten to be alive. Robots are us who mask our emotions and pretend we don’t love or hate or get embarrassed. When we do. All the time. And its OK.

But in reality its never about them. Because they where not there when you gave your heart to loves vulnerability and got your heart broken. When your trust rusted from a relationship of the ‘right one’. They did not know the smiles you gave were to keep them from questioning because ‘how are you’ is such a loaded question.

Its not about them that you are a single mother and all they think of you is loose. They don’t know your story and they will never be worth of it. Especially those who claim to be friends yet aim words of discouragement about you to others. Or those who weave your image for the world that adores their craft more than you. They don’t know how its like to have you be where you are so forget them and live.

You are the one living the life different from them. Though the choice might not have been yours. Its never really cause life chooses us. Societal judgements may be made to put you down but they will only if you let them. Because we live in a world where we can never be enough but just be human. And they may try to forget that. Hurt you so much you cry but tears are meant to fall no matter what.

A better world would be one that let’s you admit you are wrong and not waiting to say I told you so. A better world is one where my age does not amount to wisdom. A better world is where expression is not limited or uncomfortable words muted.