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Oct 2020
A sliver of sun scorching cerebrum
Whispers on the lips of an encephalic cloud
An old friend, whose company I keep
Warning against silhouettes and uncertain peril
Liberation is nigh from a skeletal prison
Beating on my skull and tearing at my muscle
I fear my old friend will return
As a siren, luring me to the bottom of a macabre sea
This is my first poem. I wanted to capture my recent, raw feelings about my mental illnesses in this little poem.
Written by
Aimee Phelps  20/F/Utah
(20/F/Utah)   
865
 
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