Permission in the Pandemic

Our home in full bloom. 
Photo credit: A

I gave myself permission

some call it freedom

to let my curls be curls

not tied up, not straightened out

they are a start

to my writing and loving

I let them loose

now I can rein in my tongue

I let them loose

now I can write

my rage flows through my hair

instead of being suppressed

built up only to burst into flames

that hurt everyone and me

now my hair is angry

but my tongue is full of love

now my hair is angry

but my fingers and heart let go

I think before I speak

I love with more kindness

I, me, myself, I now celebrate

my curls have let me think and calibrate.