(i am not writing or speaking the context of this dream because it is simply too horrific to tell you)
he looks me in the eye from under the car and at that moment i suck in a breath, as scuttling and feeble as my half awake brain will allow me to do. i am screaming inhumanly
i am awake in my bedroom.
i listen to the rain outside, feel the fresh air coming in the window and lie tossing still in that fever, that fuoco di pensieri. i cannot shake his words, his deeds.
i realize i am headed to a place where waking up from these dreams is not a possibility.
people do things like this in afrika every day. twisted, fucked up, hannibal lecter on krak kokane fucking frozen dead girls.
i scoff at myself.
(i'm walking into the fire. if i can't handle a nightmare about it how can i handle when i cant stop the nightmare just by screaming?)
oh but i did handle it. im not falling apart. a scream, a tear or two and shhh.
this is just a practice run. test-go.
wait til you land on the moon to freak out about the aliens with their new instruments of war.
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you are born with ass.
