who?

they held him down
and cut his hair forcefully.
the names they called him burnt
holes into his skin, and when their
nails dug in, it couldn't compare to
the fear that ran through his bloodstream.

they left some minutes later,
but it felt like a year. his blonde, curly
tufts peppered the tile around him. they looked
like feathers from a harmed bird, like the wings
ripped off of an angel.

and when he looks at
his reflection, it claims
not to know him.