Shell

They said I had sea shells under my skin
I trace my fingers over my bones
My neck aches from the weight of my thoughts
The stairs defeat me
I shake at the thought of them
Trip skip fall
Carry the cup with two hands
Refrain from the smell of me
Head full of maggots
I have had enough
We lie on the floor and dream
Babbling leaves returning to the sea
Crocus hills
Stones of shame in our pocket
We observe in silence
Wrap twine around our head
It sits there like a wig
A skein of scars and stories
We lie on the floor
Bent out of shape
How we wish for shells not the shape of our scars.