You Braiding My Hair

Mom came over to a house that used to be hers and she had to exist in the new smell

That must have hurt more than having to look at all the new objects 

But not as much as having to knock on a door she used to have a key to

You existed in a space with her not because you wanted to 

But because you are stubborn just like me 

Both of you uncomfortable and unwilling to budge 

Unwilling to show weakness or to say “I need help”

She washed my hair in her old tub 

And braided it in her old room 

I cried the whole time and you just kept opening and closing the curtains to make yourself busy 

I needed to braid my hair because I couldn’t get rid of the sound of her voice

I could still feel her fingers pulling at my knots

I couldn’t shake her words and for a while I stopped hearing everything else

I still remember how it felt when she said it

How certain she was that just by looking at my hair she knew you already

I will never forget that feeling she gave my stomach 

The visceral reaction I had when she said

“Your hair looks like a bird’s nest because you’re being raised by a white daddy”

So I needed my hair braided and I was going to tell her that you braided it

Not my mom who took the thirty minute train ride with a bag full of hair supplies

All you could do was fidget with the curtains

But I was still going to tell that woman you did it.

Once my hair was done I felt like I could finally hear again

Mom wiped away all my tears and put my favorite clips in

Then she turned to you and looked at you in a way that I didn’t know how

But I would give you that same look one day and you would then recognize her in me

She walked out the front door prideful

Because she didn’t need a key for that