Once my hair fell way past my shoulders.
I never used to think much of it.
One night I stayed over at my aunt’s house.
One night she cut my hair down to 2 inches.
The next morning, she braided it in brown hair extensions and said nothing.
A few weeks later I discovered my hair had been cut.
In my thoughts, I skin her scalp back.
I cut off her forefinger and middle finger.
I clip the corners of her eyes, with a pair of toe scissors.
I sew brown extensions into her scalp and saturate it with oils.
One afternoon I saw her.
One afternoon I heard her horrible voice.
One afternoon I played the fiddle and watched her fall hard.
Her husband had cheated on her and took her money.
Her husband came back to her house.
Today my hair falls past my shoulders.
Today I type and I write my truth.
Today her sins caught up with her and she swirls around endlessly in a deep pool of salt.
Her eyes are burning, and her tongue has fizzled away.
My word, she’s a waste of life.
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