Shell

The shell, the home, the shield

the extension of yourself meant to cradle, to carry you

or do you carry it

in your pocket, kept for a remembrance of

when you felt safe, secure, protected

the shape always different, surface always smooth

faced from the passage of time

pay no mind to the dirt or the skeletons left on the inside

these are reminders of the past nothing more

to say

left alone

the shell stays buried

nothing to protect

instead the water carves out holes to pass through

swirling into the submerged armor

the cavity starts with a single grain of sand

boring and grinding

but ends with a hole in your heart

in your home.

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