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Rated: E · Poetry · Spiritual · #1836229
A poem inspired by a rough patch.
A mirror defends them against wicked thoughts.
Please! I beg that this is not me.
The demons fill this thick heavy air.
My breath has ceased.

Claws digging into my skin.
Pain and darkness.
Cold and shivering.
I close my eyes.

Feeling a sudden tug.
Hands grab me from above.
Eyelids drawn up like curtains.
The view is different up here.

Arms wrapping me tightly.
Peace and lightness.
Warm and snug.
I close my eyes.

Love calms the screams inside.
Although reluctant, I am thankful to see.
Deeply inhaling reassurance.
At last, my breath released.

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