The Cocoon is the Grave

Therein lies the beginning

Photo by Walter del Aguila on Unsplash

Forget Jello. I feel like a bowl of soup. Liquid,
Conforming to the shape of my container, I
Am limitless in my capacity to take any form, I
Am limited by my dependence on external
Things. I feel completely and utterly destroyed, my
Mind takes me back to days gone by and petite
Pirate picture books about blasting everyday objects
Into smithereens. How does the shell feel when…