i remember standing in front of the mirror
with a comb stuck halfway in my hair
i was in tears
i was angry
i wondered why i did not get my mothers hair
soft as silk
and instead got hair from my father’s side of the family
coarse and thick
i had begged my mother to iron it
simplify my hair
as i matured i realized that i wasn't only ironing out curls and kinks
i was ironing out
history
and
heritage
that wasn't mine to burn