Visit with Demons

Warm and welcoming

A home should be.

Not to the eleven raised

in the tar paper shack

Some do not visit

mom gone

dad gone

There is no reason.

Those who do visit,

Sit along side the demons

flash of memories

Eat at their souls.

Linger they do not do

Just a moment or two

They visit the demon

That haunted their livess.

Daily I sit,

visit with the dark being.

Each one made

by the trauma that was.

Mother’s demons

raised by survivors

of boarding schools where

they were purposely broken.

Father’s demons

Awful to know demons

Abuse, neglect, rejection and pain.

ate each child alive.

Siblings share

what darkness they learned.

Taking and give

ing broken peices

to each other.

I sit here.

Everyday

Considering

How to help.

With determination

I loving caress my feather.

Let’s go and talk, pray

to the creator.

Piece by piece,

I am shown their pain.

Piece by piece

I pray for healing.

The demon of the day

sits down with a coffee

whispers, “good morning.”

In response, I say;

Good morning,

Let another day

of healing

begin, continue, exposed or expunged.

Demons look different

to each sibling

some too scary to face

some too painful to feel.

Good morning demon,

Let’s talk so I can understand

what happened in the past

to create a creature like you.

A Nun’s furry?

Angry lynch mob?

Illness or death?

Parents too damaged?

Sit with me,

Help me to understand,

What made you evil

in the walls of this home.

I fear you not

now that I see you.

You were not born evil,

you were made.

Let me take your shadow self,

give your hurts some love.

Dear Demon,

It’s time to heal.