Last night I visited your home in my dreams 6-27-21

There were those potted plants out front, just like I saw them when I left your home for the last time some years ago now.

You were not home.

Just as well.

I don’t need your presence to still feel the fear that sliced through me that soulless night.

I gave myself a tour- the one you never gave me. And beyond this dreamscape of your bedroom I saw blackness. Because I cannot imagine a “normal” home for you.

That would make you human. And I've been demonizing you for years.

Besides, how can you forgive a demon?

You can’t.

So I visited your home and tried to see a home where a human lived, one with flaws but a capability for goodness.

And there you were, so fucked up from war and weary of the world that you turned to writing and women. Two loves you held, but were never humble enough to admit that you had anything to learn from. Only arrogant enough to believe you had more to give (knowledge) and much to take (sex and accolades).

So is it any surprise you found a kind faced girl, with big blue eyes to wet your appetite and fill your ego?

Is it any wonder that it is easy to hate you more, thinking of you as human, because that would mean you can choose to do better, but you didn’t?

You chose to show me darkness, not even letting me see the man who carefully, gently cared for those beautiful potted plants out front.

The ones that have mocked me in my nightmares ever since.