Gone..

Mom said I’m “shedding”. Growing out of my skin. 

I’m looking around and everything that was familiar, no longer holds the same shape or serves the same purpose. I’m so angry and frustrated about the pile of dead skin that lay before me! 

So many questions. When did this happen? Why is this happening? How did this happen? What can I do to stop the growth?! 

The answer is… 

Exactly. The answer is everything I do and I do not want to hear. The answer stares back at me — like a reflection in a dirty mirror.  

Yeah, yeah. Change is necessary and inevitable. 

The skin was itchy, and pale. It cracked with every smile, it softened with every tear. The skin used to be taut and vibrant. It moved with my every step and blended well with the elements. 

One would think that the new skin would automatically feel better, but it feels like a foreign object that’s laying on top of me that I am forced to accept. 

Yearning for that old thing back. Yes, that old thing that was me. 

It’s just about gone now. 

My scent is to unite with this fresh skin. Stretching so that it fits from head to toe and glides around every curve. Tested to endure the most critical of circumstances. Casting a shadow of newness. 

Resisting the transition has been painful. I should just roll around against the ground and help the rest detach. Trusting that nature will renew my strength, adjusting to the mold of the new me with cooperation and dignity. 

-Candace 

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