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? MyContinue reading “Home Invasion”
What up, Buttercup?
Hay's Corner 