I woke up this morning thinking about freedom and was reminded of these words I wrote a few weeks ago. Today, I hope that we can all celebrate our independence from something.
You stomped into my dreams last night
I couldn’t see your face clearly but I heard your voice
You were yelling something indecipherable as you moved into frame, wildly gesticulating to make your point
As you got closer I realized that the yelling was about me, to me
Because how will I ever learn if you don’t tell me how wrong I am?
I crossed my arms and set my gaze upon you, a half-smile on my face
I am not afraid.
You have no power.
This was not the false bravado of the past when my face telegraphed disinterest but, internally, I scrambled to head off the next terrible thing.
This time I laughed
A genuine, hearty laugh
And on cue your anger rose from that place I always pictured as the
inside of a volcano
White hot with rage, roiling with anger
Thick with sulfur
Waiting for an opportunity to erupt
You moved closer, yelled louder
And I stood
Bemused smirk (you know the one)
You have no power
Your words, once so hurtful, are now unintelligible
Your point will never be made
YOUR POINT WILL NEVER BE MADE
And then you are gone
I hear your voice trailing into the distance as your form vanishes
I open my eyes and take an inventory of my surroundings
I am safe
I wonder for a few minutes if this was a dream or if some part of you visited from wherever your spirit now dwells
Was I what you expected?
I don’t know if the dead can be disappointed but I hope that you were
And I hope that you carry that disappointment, like chains, through your eternity
Your spirit is not welcome here