In my dream, I killed a man
I ran a knife across his throat
I watched his life spill from him
Until he was still

I woke in sheer panic
Was I insane?
A psychopath?
A hidden monster inside me?

My mind screamed in defense
I love kittens and puppies
I love the smell of new babies
I care about people, really care!

It was early on a Sunday morning
Dawn had not yet broke
I poured coffee and grabbed a blanket
And, I thought

I loved this person, but
He had had kept me in this box
Where I used to live
Who I used to be

With no regard
To the work I had done
To the nightmares I had overcome
He didn’t see how I had put the pieces of my soul back together

He kept me in that box
That terrifying box
Where I was less than no one
Where I deserved my pain

And I realized
I didn’t just kill that man
I killed his ideals
I killed my past

I was letting go
I was healing
I was becoming my better me
A chance to start the new year fresh

I breathed deeply
And I smiled
As I took a sip of hot, creamy coffee
And waited for the sun to rise

My writing comes from my traumas, my experiences, and my growth.  After 30 years of silence, I picked my pen back up. I’ve been getting to know my demons ever since. Writing has given me a freedom I’ve never experienced.  I have found strength and a compassion for myself that I didn’t know was possible.

You can read more of my writing at Blood Stained Lips and on Facebook.