Broken into,finger-prints, someone else’s.
All over the fabric lining of your mind.
View distorted,
by hands, someone else’s.
Manipulating the senses,
moulding the clay beneath your skin.
Temporary invasion,
leaving you reeling ,
in shock and exhaustion.
Asking yourself,
as you wake up every morning after:
Can I still call this home?
My sanctuary?
My place of rest?
Even though they stole every sense of security,
left inside of me?
Can I reclaim the home,
I’ve been building for years,
internally?
Your body is still yours.
Your mind is still yours.
Your heart has always been your own.
You have permission
and the power,
to let it all go.
Hay's Corner 