18 Jun, 2012 08:03 PM
I wish that at night, when I wake up screaming 
I could just hold my nightmare in my hand. 
Watch the blood drip through the spaces of my fingers, 
see the fire steaming 
Watch me try to run away, 
but I'm just running through quick sand. 

If I take a look at what I thought I was scared of 
I realize that it's just a poorly produced horror movie. 
That the scary monster chasing me, was just a hooded dove 
And that the dark fires burning in the night are really soothing. 
But I never realize it when I'm trapped inside my hands 
The thing that I'm holding. 

It turns tables and I realize I'm fighting it once again 
And all happiness in  my mind starts turning and folding. 
So I start panicking and can not breath 
Just like when it was real. 

I couldn't see through the steam 
Or maybe just turned my head, 
because I didn't want to see the kill. 
It plays over and over in my mind all day 
And doesn't tune out when I fall asleep. 

It just gets bigger and tries to steal me away 
And no one around to hear to silent feet. 
I wish I could just scoop it out of my brain 
And hold it in my hands. 

But it would only remind me more of it, 
the seeing, rather than feeling the pain 
And seeing your life being shipped away, 
packaged and canned. 
In my twisted sense though 
I might not look at it like a nightmare all the time. 
But more so, as a reminder to let me know 
That next time it won't bother me so much, 
if I could only better get away with the crime.
Tags: Dark, Scream, Horror, Blood
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