The Exorcist


My mind is home to repressed memories
of haunting words
and hands that have taken away everything that was myself,
and moulded me into
something which I fail to recognise.
Exorcising the demons from my past, my mind tries to make space for new memories, but fails.
The old scars don’t heal
New threads, scared to be stitched.
The pain raw and unbidden,
torments my mind.
Then you walk into my life,
hold my hands,
and guide me towards the light.
My heart and mind starts to heal,
The scars fading away with time,
entwined in a galaxy of broken memories,
I am made whole again.



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