shedding sorrow's grasp

 sequestered in a   
      somber sepulchre 
where I relinquish 
              dead memories
and iced nightmares
       upon resting ivy,
twisted 
    with rotting thistle
I'm no longer 
    able to breathe 
             pulverized pain
as I shed this
      stitched-on hollow skin
resuscitation under 
               Jupiter's moon

darkdeepgothicpoetryspacefree verse

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