Everything and everyone has grown spikes
sharp pointy spikes
multiple long spikes
front and back, above and below
every corner and every surface

And I move to ease the stiffness
fear enforced
to avoid being stabbed and poked
since hours and days, together blurred
and the moment I try to move
to relieve the soreness coursing through
every cell and every pore
I get punctured again

And they say don’t worry
stay still
this will end soon
and I blink my eyes
in acknowledgement
can’t move my head or wave my arms
nor do anything else
it has been with them
the doing
nurturing and polishing
to perfect sharpness
the spikes growing on them

And me,
have been holding steadfastly
onto my soft shell
in the hope of change
though the realisation has come late
foolishly

And now,
a sanguine clarity does arrive
in moments
when the painful mist gives way
to reveal that a lot has changed
Though not the way I had hoped

Nature prefers spikes
It promotes fangs
For it’s easier providing venom
Than repairing soft shells