Skin cells regenerate every twenty-seven days,
Hair grows six inches a year.
Eyelashes shed every month and a half.
That body you had at twenty no longer exists,
it has compressed and compacted
and the baby fat came back in the form of love handles
because if someone loves you, they won’t let go.
People change; they shed their skin for something better.
They trade blank canvases for stories and lines you’ve joked
about taking the iron to,
the same way you used to quip about taking scissors to your stomach.
Once you actually did.
The scar is barely visible anymore, just
memories of what it was like to be young but
you’ve traded in for something better.
A life with curves and lines and lessons and love.
Someone once looked at you with disappointed eyes
“you’re not the same anymore”
It was a cliché meant to make you crumple yet
you just wanted to tell them what you learned.
Cells fold and fall and free themselves.
Yes, you were a completely new person.
You shrugged your shoulders up to your ears.
“People change. They shed their skin for something better.”