Fell Inside A Shell Storytelling Autobiography Poetry
by Tara Phillips 6-7-23
I fell inside a shell.
I huddled up wound and tight.
Couldn’t see through the shadows around me.
Chomping noises; crackers, popcorn, nuts.
Bags of food crinkling, hissing of air release, popping sounds from the packaging.
People to people, a choice today, ignited feuds thereafter, crashing into the mountain water gushing down.
A mere state of being through a metaphor, described the state of being.
I abandoned any repair.
The dark space was inside me, huddled inside a turtle shell.
My magic finger pen stopped writing.
The pen had no ink.
Crayons, stylist, markers...
Yellow number 2 pencil could not circle the boxes on the test.
There was no money to fix any of it.
Weathered storms fictional and real.
Achoo, bang, boom, clap, fizz, pow, splat, tick-tock, knock and zap.
I am pawstatically safe from a broken exterior.