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The Little Girl with Curly Hair
eleven years old
curly hair and naked face
the pretty boy on my bus
told me i was simply
“not attractive enough, sorry”
twelve years old
flat iron hair and flat chest
the pretty boy on my bus
grew more critical
“pig nose”
thirteen years old
black clothes and black eyeliner
the pretty boy on my bus
treated me like a joke
“what happened to you?”
fourteen years old
curled hair and tight clothes
the pretty boy on my bus
changed his mind
“you look sexy”
fifteen years old
layers of makeup and push-up bras
the pretty boy on the bus
finally becomes satisfied
“we should hook up”
-where did the little girl with the curly hair go?

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This piece is about conforming to society, to what people want you to be. I was inspired to write this poem when I let my hair dry on its own and realized that it no longer curled after being flat ironed every day for years.