.Reclassification.

[i_just_float]

My flesh shrivels up off my bones in curling tendrils.
Like shavings of leather by a beveller,
Or scrapings of wood from a whittler’s potential masterpiece.
Been shedding this rind for as long as I can recall.
Consistently modifying.
Persistently morphing into a creature from my past life.
Time traveling without the effects of G-force in reverse.
Yet,
I’m as static as a stagnant lily pad,
Fossilized into the earth,
Shamefully at my assumed prime.
My delicate features remain intact;
I’m mummified mid-exhale.
If touched,
I would crumble.