We'Re Manic
We’re Manic.
Depression?
Still in question
Not for me
My mother knows, I sleep, in shoes
dirty clothes
with lithium
bottles
strewn
I chain myself
in working
panic
She’s Manic
She talks at speed
too fast for
God’s
Prayer to read
Excited, beyond
the force - Indeed
we’re manic
compulsively free
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