OUR COCOON
It’s as if we were in a cocoon.
where the walls are filled with paintings and mirrors and our expectations.
the sound of our gentle voices bouncing off the walls.
our words lingering in the air forever. the good and the bad.
then, one of us started wondering what would happen if we cut a hole in the cocoon.
With a mousehole of outside air flowing into our cocoon, we start realising our words are disappearing from our familiar oxygen.
And suddenly one of us needs to cover the mousehole the other one created.
One of us needs to shoo away the outside words that are entering our safety.
And one of us needs to remove the dust gathering at the mousehole that the other one has created.
All this while the one of us who created the mousehole is looking out of it, curiously.
It’s like we’re in a cocoon. our cocoon stops working when it’s met with a challenge.
Our cocoon is comforting to only one of us. our cocoon wasn’t ever really our cocoon.
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Featured image credits to Ridderhof on Pixabay
