Too many holes, he said,
Referring to my ears.
Or perhaps my chest.
Thumping, squeezing blood faster
and faster.
Raging, thump, hatred, thump
Air escapes my lips but the words
too evil to be spoken.
So my eyes are driven into the seams of the carpet.
Only one little boy knows about the airplane
That will take me to a land unknown
Where it is okay to believe in mermaids.
And romance.
Where it is okay to pull the scarves
out of the hole in my chest
faster and faster I pull and pull
until all I am left with is me.