Shell

I’ll not wake up, no,
swimming here in this conch shell
of a life, shadows tickling my ear,
playing house while the real
world assumes it’s won.

I’ll not confront it, no,
kicking up the remains of reality
swept under expensive furniture
when we could afford the luxury
of not caring.

I’ll remain in my head,
enveloped by this conch shell,
closed to those sounds desperate
to encroach, honking displeasure
at deaf eyes shut.


(c) 2019 Phillip Knight Scott

Written in response to the Sunday Muse #68 photo and the Ragtag Daily Prompt: Wake.

Photography by Edouard Boubat

My name is Phillip. I live in North Carolina with my wife of 11 years and 3-year-old son, and at least for the next year, I’m on the right side of 40. (Both the interstate and existence, in years). I am a Tar Heel born and bred, and watch every Yankees game I can. My goal is to visit all 30 MLB stadiums in the next 10 years. I’ve been to 5 so far! Obviously I enjoy writing, but I also enjoy watching and reading sci-fi. I’m slowly attempting to finish my first novel, a “humorous” sci-fi romp which may be finished one day. I am a Doctor Who obsessive and choose Star Trek over Star Wars.

11 thoughts on “Shell

  1. I think perhaps we had a similar response to the image. Reality, we all need an escape from it. Such a creative expression of that truth.

    Like

  2. Hang in there. The shift is coming, and requires the very thing you (and I) are doing.

    Love this: ‘kicking up the remains of reality
swept under expensive furniture
when we could afford the luxury
of not caring.’

    Oof. Well said. 🙏

    Liked by 1 person

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