Mold crawls up my back

  Spreads out to coat my shoulders

  Coils down my arms and settles in

  Digging deep

  Permeating my bones

  Pressing through inch by inch until there's nothing left

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  No colors this time

  No rings, no shine

  Doesn't bother to trace my veins

  Doesn't need to encircle my fingers

  Why go around when it can go through

  Slowly, slowly, but it's not like I can outrun it

  It's already made a fool of me, anyway

  Guess I'll just sit here and rot

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