I feel them rattle
Scurrying at the cellar
Gnawing and warping
Always at the edge of thoughts
When I am sober
When I am fully awake
When I am myself

Yet in my slumber
The squeaking turns to growling
Howling all my faults
A repulsive narrative
That fills the cellar
With putrefied distortions
A hellish mindscape

Until I arise
Until I assume control
Crush them with sheer will
Growling reverts to squeaking
Vile wings cease beating
I reshape the misshapen
The cellar is mine again

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