All that I am

I am layers upon layers 
Of flesh grown upon another 
With bone braided throughout
And organs strewn about 
I am a mess of small cells 
Joined together to create something 
Something but nothing all the same 
And one day this body of mine will be nothing but rotted earth beneath the seam 
Everything will be gone,
But somethings shall always remain

--Rylee S., Adult