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Slip

Slip into my soul.

Save my nights from the horde.

It’s four in the morning.

Save me from the nightmarish dreams.

Blow the winds of change.

Stir my soul.

Save me, save me, don’t let me go.

Hold me, hold me, and don’t let me go home.

Test my mind.

Free my soul, don’t let them get me.

It’s six in the morning.

I haven’t been to sleep.

I worry about things like wood nymphs and water sprites.

They were dancing, singing, stirring in the night.

Yet they were not the cause of my night terrors.

Lies and deceit are the cause of it all.

If I come clean my soul will rest.

No more spirits evil or good.

No more lies of being strapped to my bed.

No more spikes tacked to my heart.

I have broken free of my shackles.

Now it’s a thing were I confess and find peace.

This poem is pretty clear about my mental anguish that I go though. I hate that many people with bipolar or other mental illness crave basic human needs and can't have them because inside our heads there's this thing that gnaws at us and wants to destroy us from the inside out.

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