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A Warm Blanket.

Need this.

My unenlightened arsenal.
This comfort, this novacane,
my only way to deal
with this madness.

Feel it coming on again,
feel them creeping in.
Awaiting dreams of lights
above the tree lines.
Silhouettes at the bedside.
At night, behind closed eyes
I fear I hear them
scuffling, feel
them watching.

This is my warm blanket,
security despite
my lack of antidote.

I doubt them, deny them,
fight them,
rationalize them away.
That is always
when they come back again.

I must remain calm
in spite of them.
I must maintain some sanity
in the face of this.


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