Depression Within Bipolar Disorder Part 3

Depression crawls down my spine, plucking my spinal cord like a guitar string. Caressing every vertebrae with his venomous fingers, infecting everything he touches. He holds me closely and whispers love songs in my ear. I try to get away but his tenacious grip is interwoven with my bones, hung on him like barbed-wire. Except the barbed-wire is embedded in my flesh and I’m standing alone.

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