The Whispering Winds


It's not the whispering winds.

The silent sleepers creep around.

They speak so loud, so proud.

Speak broken promises, 

Truths I can't believe. 

Are they there beside me. 

I can't feel their breath but they are there.

Clear as day,

Dark as my heart.

They surround me -

Killers, crazed, wize,

forecasting the future

Whilst foretelling the past. 

Splashing, screaming, scared. 

I hear their voices,

Feel their pain,

Trust them.

Hate them.

Instructing, destructing, distrusting.

I have changed,

forgotten my self, 

lost my mind. 

A crying baby, a drowning girl, 

A man so sad he needs help to die. 

Close friends, true friends, pretend friend. 

I don't want an imaginary friend, 

I don't want company.

I want empty, gone, freedom. 

Save me please. 


Psychosis voices bipolar

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Robert Mann

Thu 15th Jun 2017 14:53

Louise - there is a lot of pain expressed in this piece, but can I suggest you revisit it and perhaps edit it with fresh eyes. I think it can be made even better with a bit of judicious pruning. of course, this is just my opinion - feel free to ignore me.

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