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My Demons

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My demons don’t come howling at me anymore…

but they are constantly mewling at my door.

And so I give up and wearily let them all in

to listen to their endless scrabbling again.

It seems they are puzzled at the tears I now shed

because they are not spilling from self-contempt and dread.

Those demons’ black eyebrows rise in surprise,

And I see “Oyahright,m-hm sure” in their eyes.

The light in and with me that I’ve been searching for

has taken their demanding, pedantic place on the floor.

I know they don’t like it, yet I can see

they have begun to accept that I will be free

to walk in the warmth and bask in the light,

no longer joining them as they hunt in the night.

And so I finally shoo every one of them out

‘til next time, still quieter, they come scratching about.


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