Black hair care is a spiritual movement
When I do my hair
Actually touch the delicate fibres
that kink
and curl
and whip
from
here
to
there
well those be moments
of soul searching
When I’m taking down my braids
unleashing the natural hair
from the synthetic
I be on some deep thought shit
When I’m sitting in
the kitchen
or the salon
and that hot comb touches my roots
Y’ALLLLLLLL
It touches my roots
I think of how far
we’ve come,
I’ve come.
It’s just hair.
True
True,
but as a sista
I know all too well
the true truth.
See,
I don’t have those
normal
black girl
hair problems
I mean
I have long hair
wavy and shit.
Basically,
I know how
to take care
and grow
my shit.
So I don’t have a hair complex
or whatever type of insecurity that shit is
I’m actually envious of girls with short hair.
I can’t do shit to long hair,
breakage is motherfucker.
I can’t cut my hair
because
yo, I’m a sista.
Black hair care is a spiritual movement
I could sit here and try to explain this bitch,
but it’s an experience
individualized,
but only a sista could
try to understand it.
(Source: ebonix)
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