✨ The Demon They Awakened in Me

 

A poetic retelling of a real dream

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In a nameless city,
one of those that clings to the sea like an open wound,
I disembarked from the vessel of weary men
and stayed in a roadside motel,
its doors lined up like silent soldiers.

It was a place of passage,
where souls don’t sleep — they wait.
Wait for the next day,
for forgetting, for returning... or for punishment.

I settled into one of the last rooms,
where the road dies and the sea breathes.
But something felt off.
From my corner, I watched more arrive—
travelers of chaos,
men with violence leaking from their gaze,
mouths shaped by cruelty.

I thought of leaving.
I swear I did.
But it was too late.

Two shadows approached.
One grabbed my arm, blade drawn,
the other spoke like one who had already tasted blood.
And I…
I didn’t beg.

I don’t know where it came from,
but a being within me rose.
Not holy.
Not noble.
It was me… but broken, dark, awakened.

I turned with the fury of a man betrayed too many times,
snatched the weapon as if it had always been mine.
I struck with precision—
not out of rage…
but from the pleasure of watching them fear me.

One collapsed. The other cried out.
And I, with eyes of stone,
whispered into his ear:

“I like this. And you… you woke it up.”

Silence became an abyss.
My chest, a muted war drum.
I dropped the knife.
Fell to my knees.
And wept…

—What do you want from me? To tear me from God?
Then you’ve done it…
Damn you.

I cried not out of fear,
but for having found pleasure in hurting.
I cried because I had seen a corner of myself
that I had feared… but could no longer ignore.

Then, when everything in me surrendered,
a voice arrived.
Not from heaven,
but from the cracked shell of my mind:

—It’s because of her.
Let her go.

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Thus ended the dream.
Not as a battle…
but as a confession.
A truth hidden
in steel, guilt,
and the love I should no longer carry.

#dream