It's time to reacquaint myself
with my past:
who's turning green,
who's almost totally decayed,
who has the most misshapen of skulls.

I stroll through a succession
of rotting corpses in chairs,
bones chained to walls,
even a couple of newbies
with still recognizable faces
twisted by terror.

Some are strangers.
Some are family.
A couple I even
believed I was in love with.
One died accidentally
but the rest can be filed
under 'Victims.'

It's a reunion of a sort
with those moments in my life
when those childhood thrashings
from my father
acted themselves out
in bloody, violent ways.

Ah yes, my father.
My cruel, disturbed, unloving father.
If I could only have got my hands on him,
he would be the only corpse here.

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