Shedding In My Sleep

I must have been shedding in my sleep. I woke in a new skin. I had grown so tired of the other, full of holes, scratchy and sour, each day fighting the urge to strip down. I tried ironing and mending, tried convincing myself it was one worth saving, but I must have been shedding in my sleep. Like a dimly moon-lit serpent I have emerged from the turmoil, transcended the internal pain and poison. Now to carry on and carry through.