Bi-polar

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The claws of the creature that once tore into the tapestry of my mind are dulled   The unraveling has ceased  but not without leaving behind wide fraying gaps   Weaving together
Image: Les bons et les mauvais jours by Magnetic  
The words hit the paper like the tears hit my wrists; The ink flows like the blood from my arms; The open spaces Letters spinning Words shaking
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