eggs

I've spun an eggshell around me
made of time and alienation
And curled in its heart
I watch people slide down the curve
like rainwater off glass.

My fingertips bend as I
press from inwards out and
satisfied with the fortifications
I retreat.

The yolk is
written words and voices
relayed over wire and
as the years skitter by it's
proving thin subsistence.

I'd break out but I
doubt
the quality of my
egg tooth.