Autobiography

I started in the basal layers of the skin, putting in my time.
As a dutiful worker, I eventually made my way up, erupting through the skin surface like an ugly volcano and, at the same time, extending much deeper like an even uglier iceberg. I wasn’t afraid to make myself visible because by then I had nothing to hide. Once you saw me, once you knew who I was, I was already everywhere.
I burrowed into the fat and muscle, made them an inextricable part of me.
I dipped my toes into the rivers of blood and into them I shed myself like dandelion seeds in the wind.
From there, I reached the lungs where I blossomed like popcorn.
Entered the liver and sprouted like blue halos of mold on bread.
Chewed up the bones like a rabid dog.
I had caused pain all over, but there was one place I had not yet sought.
I waited for the loved ones to think it couldn’t get worse and then I attacked the hippocampus, erased memories like a magnet on a hard drive. I set up shop in the frontal lobe and let the behavior completely devolve into sickening debauchery. Turned the thing into a monster before everyone’s tear-stained eyes. Finally, as my tenure came to a close, I invaded the brainstem until there was no more breathing.
We expired together, my life’s work complete.