I’m a wuss-bag.

His beautiful hair…
I have been holding out for
quite a long time now.

I loved the way it
made those sweet, lovely little
curls right at the back.

The soft, golden hue
glistened and shone whenever
light bounced off of them.

The long, wispy front
gave him a place to hide and
reflect on his thoughts.

Sometimes while he was
playing, I would twirl fingers
in curls behind him.

This was baby hair.
I have been clinging to the
last shreds of days passed.

Alas, it was time.
The hair was becoming quite
a nuisance to him.

Snip, snip, snip, snip, snip.
Something so simple, yet still
so emotional.

Hair that I once touched,
smelled, kissed, washed, stroked, and caressed
fell down to the floor.

And who is this now?
This little boy before me?
My baby is gone.