Manic Depression


it’s like a cage you’re locked within far away from the comprehension of
anyone who could aid you. it’s like a monster starved to a skeletal
fragment of its former self, sleeping fitfully in the corner of a cell. the
world would not be enough. it’s like looking up through a silent depth of
water to the surface where light plays, watching the faces of friends you
once knew smiling without reason, laughing without sound. it’s like looking
into the darkness and never seeing the end. it’s like the stabbing hate
filled eyes of a stranger in a car passing by. it’s like holding up your
bloodied hands and knowing that the war has come home to you.

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Author: manderson

I live in NYC.

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