Cocoons of Comfort

I don’t belong in this place…

where umbrellas and raincoats

shelter us from the cold,

stinging wetness of life.

Where we protect ourselves

from the bombardments of rain—

tiny, brutal reminders that we exist.

Where we wear gloves to avoid

touching the rawness of the world.

Where we scurry through life

in our cocoon of comfort—

not thinking perhaps coccoons

are really coffins and comfort means

we aren’t actually here.

That which hurts is alive.


One Comment

  1. This is beautiful! It’s amazing to think of all the things that humans try to avoid in life that are really so beautiful. We’ve sheltered ourselves so much that we don’t know how some of it feels. Thanks so much for writing this. You make the words come alive and seem so real. Great job…. Megan 🙂

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