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The Shell

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The shell must crack open.
Stapled shut by a shattered soul
Nails pierce through the exterior
Black duct tape hides battered bruises.

The shell must crack open.
The hard outside is streaked with red war paint
Bloody battles have been here.
Perhaps the wounds will never heal.

The shell must crack open.
Slowly, daylight whispers.
Eyes cautiously peer out
Gentle cajoling occurs.

The shell must crack open.
A body inside is healing
Gathering strength, growing restless
Nourishing, repairing.

The shell must crack open.

One. Two. Three.

The shell shatters.




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