A Complicated History With Hair & The Sun Loves Me

A Complicated History With Hair

I once was a little black girl
Thick curls, tight kinked, sprinkle water they shrink 

Think think think
How in the next 5 days can these 5 inch curls
Miraculously turn into full length swirls 

Asian ginseng 
Rosemary oil
Little black girls know the toil 

My father and his razor
Head shaven
This little black girl paced down the street
As little kids snickered round her feet

My father and his razor
Head shaven 

It sickened this little black girl 

Each shave was a statement 

That the strands of my hair
We're better dead on the hallway floor 

Soon my mother starts braiding
In boxes we're tight tied
Turns of hair gasping for air 

How I would squeal and tear
With each squeezing of tight hair 

Hand over head as we lay into pillows 
Tossing and turning 
Little black girls know the burning 

And yet the story starts overturning
Soon this little black girl starts relearning 

Emancipated from feeling alienated 
Slowly baking is a self-embracing 

No longer a foe
Her hair retells her soul

Twists from Senegal 
Implanted with rings of gold 

Shells swimming in oceanbeds 
Plaited into hair of Chestnut red 

Oh She knows, how she knows
The beauty of every coil 

Shrivelled or distressed 
Frizzed like a nest

I'm still this little black girl 
Days of turmoil 
Days of feeling whole 

Learning to nurture my fro
Slowly healing my soul



The Sun Loves Me

Melanin skin makes the sun rise
She gazes down with loving eyes
It's as if we’re synchronised 
Feasting through flickering light
Hues of brown, dark and light 

As it feasts 
We feast
Beckoning vitamins we shall synthesis 

I can't help but sympathise 
With those who have never felt such heat 
From loving eyes 

75 degrees, I was a little child 
Smouldering under natures warming cuddle
She yearns to nuzzle


Lena (she/her) is a nonsensical storyteller, exploring the faculties birthing love and hate through her fondness of all things poetic, sonic and visually palpitating. Deeply rooted within her youth & blackness, she is woven by her obsession with undressing the raw beauty off the bare self. Playing with the juxtaposition that strains from the duality of life, with its indescribable joys and continuous pains.

Website: lenasiewee.com

Instagram: @cinnamoncasket

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