The fright is like a grappling vine,
fragile and small, becoming binding
as I realize my shallow heart
my tightly shut eyes, my anger.
I cringe at the thought of others
making the same discovery.
I have certainly not been attracted to this new acquaintance.
They won’t either
How will I be admired if I’m honest?
How will I be liked if I stop hiding?
My dark, scabby heart needs to stay
beneath the band-aid.
It would be painful to tear it off.
People would gasp and turn away.
And then I’d have to be very careful
in order for it to heal.
Besides, most people are covered in band-aids.
Or are they?
Am I the only one?
Would it be sillier to take it off or to keep it on, I wonder?