By Kimberly L.
“He was a beast of a man. But the two gods who created him couldn’t agree. And that’s what made him so painfully ordinary.”
I didn’t dream it. I didn’t write it.
It came to me on the edge of sleep—
a truth that didn’t need explaining, just recording.
It felt like something ancient.
A message meant to be passed on,
not interpreted—remembered.
He had fire in him.
Motion. Chaos. Weight.
He was built for more than he allowed himself to become.
But he clung to comfort.
He carried burdens that weren’t his.
He let fear become his personality.
He wasn’t a villain. He was a half-built truth.