(G)(h)r(o)(s)s(t)

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My father's perforated cheek
Fingers bent at odd angles
His clothes are tattered
Joints, stiff and creaking

My mother's translucent skin
Legs wobbling with each step
Her eyes are reddened
Sight, short and weakening 

The walls of our house have awoken
All doors now open
Lights flickering, deranged
All exits now broken

My own ghastly mask
More bleached with every breath
My skull is hollow
Bones, brittle and vanishing

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