Inheritance
I had a dream last night
extinct grandfather’s home
the one I had lost
familiar warm rooms
filled with friendly touches
echoes of shared laughter
hugged by family’s chatter
but gentleness escapes
once anger’s invited
my body’s a vessel
for its raging red flames
scaring the little girls
breaking their favourite toys
mother’s hand grabs my arm
defensive rage of hers
blows up in a calm way
I usually witness
from three meters away
disappointed and high
she throws me in my cell
guilt is in that same room
she stares with her tired eyes
as faint memory sounds
slip in beneath the door crack
we await the mad guest
leave me human again
I drag my feet behind
shame’s shaky hand in mine
she leads me back to them
the room now full of men
family’s generations
congratulating me
I am now one of them