I have to take out the knots that tangle in my hair. 

Feeling miserable every time.

 

My hair never finds peace, 

even when I let it breathe. 

 

My mom braiding my hair tightly, 

barely getting freedom to move my eyebrows or turn my head. 

 

Dead locks of hair fall off 

while she combs half of my hair. 

 

Some gets in my face all of the time. 

And I sometimes be simply annoyed. 

 

She braids very fastly, but steady.

The tears that was in the corners of my eyes start to find a way to come out. 

 

It hurts but it’s okay, 

because in the end I feel the opposite when I look in the mirror.