Seashells

I am a broken seashell brought by the morning high tide stepped on and buried under the sand. My grandma used to say that when you put a seashell to your ear, you can hear the ocean. The waves sound of grief, sunsets hidden in the rain clouds seagulls looking for a piece of land abandoned lighthouses. I’m sinking deeper and deeper, with sand in my eyes and burning tears. When you put a broken seashell to your ear, you can hear dead silence.