Sunday Stories: “When the darkness comes back”

When the darkness comes back by neni demetriou Suffering from anxiety and losing the one you love feels a lot like penance. And I can’t breathe; and Father, forgive me for I have sinned.   I used to slay my demon with my pen. Used to exorcise him from the night, my mind, from my dreams, our bed; used to silence the hauntings that echoed in the catacombs of my brain with a touch of your hand.

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