The Boy Prince with the Keyhole chest sat
and sat
and sat
and sat
he pounded upon his chest
hard with his fist
listening to the echoes dance against
steel ribcage walls
wondered if there was even a heart left at all
if it had dried up and crumbled to dust
perhaps it had melted under the sun
perhaps it shattered and melded itself
to the metal inside
never to be seen from or heard from again
He thought of the pieces he’d given away
He wished he could take them back
one by one
sew them together with yarn or some string
sew them together to not come undone
sew them together as he was when he was young
the Boy Prince with the Keyhole Chest
felt the anger start to rumble in his belly
start to bubble
till it boiled
and there sitting on that lawn
he let out a wail that shook the ground below
it bounced off the clouds
and then the ground just below
it shook the flowers on their stems
it shook the grass blades
it shook the air they were breathing
across streets far and wide
all the way to the place Violetta resides
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