Depression, anxiety, and insecurities were represented in each tangle.

The tightness of dead self-love made my scalp breathless in a strangle. 

Cuts that were too painful to do were replaced by unwashed hair.

Grease, dandruff flowed down my neck uncomfortably, I didn't care...

Oil heartily dripped pressure from my forehead to my chest, making it chained;

hair bulbs pierced the blood pumping organ with hate until all was drained. 

Brown was the color of filth I wanted to get rid off, so I did without the silver of a blade.

Fibers with split ends divided in equal parts of gloom, crisscrossed into a braid.

The first strand made my running fingers pale like the corpse of the person I adored;

it was pulled down by hands that caressed my head with fake jeremiad, so obscure.

The color turned ashy and gray with each day that a kinship said: "I'm sorry..."

Honey bee words showed that money was sweet, until the only thing left was a body...

Heat from boiling water accumulated by a crystal bubble in drops, second strand;

knots from the back of the head absorbed the salt, slipped back to cover the brand.

Adam's ale burned my skin; the urge to scratch was so great that it felt nice to hurt.

The sound of nails with filth hid the distress from comfort; the only escape was velvet. 

Self-suffocation, pathetic, I recall the night the tub was full and waiting for the last breath.

The third stand was just the mistakes that pulled me down to nothing like Macbeth. 

Regret passed my soma, feet touched the burning water screaming for magical words.

Sliding off the marble edge while still waiting for that phase: "There's heartwarming methods."  

Half in the aqua, the torture couldn't be more amazing; but it didn't feel complete.

Relief is pleasurable, pulled the strands from the whole that has always been incomplete.

Fell down my back like autumn leaves, autumn leaves that have been rotten by the earth.

I gave in and my skin melted, the tips of my fuzz slowly gave into the water and felt worth...

The second my scalp kissed the liquid and my eyes were under safety wasn't present.

Still and finally free; my fibers danced, the previous actions were no longer violent.

Raising from my 'predestined fate' the hand that I passed through my hair was gentle;

sting nor discomfort, I don't know if it was how lovely it looked or if it was the tremble. 

Sweet water mixed with the one in my eyes as they rivered down, I grabbed the shampoo;

cheap coconut product with a cover of an open nut, the color of my hair can't be a taboo.

Brown hairy exterior with a hard as rock shell, I'm crazy to say that it wasn't far off?

If broken with enough force by falling from a sublime palm all negativity is ripped off. 

Tired of suffering by the same palm tree that gave to the wind too early to make it fall.

My fur was what they loved the most and I mistreated it until rancid, I was so small.

Almost a decade of hanging from the passed provider and not letting go to flourish;   

the picture of us sneaking into the kitchen and getting 'arroz con coco' is used to nourish.

I recall how angry he got when my curls were straightened out, it was time to move on.

Untangled, clean, and ready to revive; glum is thrown into that lonely laundry basket.

The first days were a mess, I looked like a truffle that was left too long in the oven;

coconut spray, oil, cream, and repeat became so natural that I did identify as broken. 

Teared down to the sand, grew not too far from the old father tree to reserve minerals.

The longer my hair grows I sense that I'm maturing and letting him rest with the angels...