Thursday, May 7, 2015

Nomoniker Was It's Name

There was an egg
it was a very pretty egg
all warm and comfy
the perfect place for it

It started out so tiny
undetectable if anything
it was nurtured
and it started to grow

This place was ideal
perfect supply of all it needed
hummed into life by a life
it was happy

The egg started growing
needing more space
it wriggled and pushed
and forced and demanded

Pulses and waves
movement and clutter
the sounds of impulses
breaking its home

It needed more
more of everything
as it grew stronger
it's home grew weaker

The pulses became tremors
their were times it felt starved
yet the little egg grew
wanting to be all encompassing

Then one day all went fuzzy
there were stirrings and knockings
there were strange voices
shiny sharp instruments

Soon the cutting started
ruining this perfect hideaway
no more nutients came
bright lights and eviction

Plopped into a acrid liquid
dissected into tiny pieces
smeared across glass
peered at through a microscope

Gone, but not forgotten
marks left behind
scars and plates and screws
the space left filling back in

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