Violent dreams.
But it was me wielding the knife, the gun, the implement of destruction…
A crazy Mickey Mouse roll call of bad choices. I make you dead to me.
Wake up with residual ill feeling. It’s fuzzy and not targeted. Maybe it was mom who said not to take anger out on innocent bystanders. Collateral damage is never a good thing. There is a building pressure of frustration that things aren’t working as they should. Don’t be that cranky old lady.
No collateral damage. Keep it contained.
So in my dreams I rampage.