Homage To My Locks

these locks are wavy they have a mind of their own. when i was younger, my dad would call my hair, crazy hair. he would say crazy hair Lily. his words combed through my emotions like the brush I so desperately needed. laughing, I would gaze in the mirror admiring my locks in knots, every single hair with a mind of their own, in a different direction. that was me his crazy haired Lily, and with a smile on his face, he would depart his laughter echoing mine as the morning began.

these locks are thick. when i go to the hairdressers, they always tell me I have too much hair. the darkness of my hair doesn’t always fit in. these curly locks have been in the straightener before, but never again will they be trapped. when they are forced to conform, they no longer feel like mine. when I stare at myself with the forced locks, it feels like I am staring at someone else, for they are not my locks. my locks will be free. in the past, they were hated for being different, they will be cherished. these locks break hair bands, because they are strong.

these locks break boundaries. they are everything, wavy, curly, thick, and very crazy. they have a mind of their own.

Lily Eshan '23

POETRY