last night i had another one of those dreams,
the ones where you constantly wake up only to realize you're still dreaming.
i saw spiders in my sheets,
the fear had woken me up.
i jumped out of bed and noticed the spiders were still there, biting at my feet
the fear had woken me up.
i jumped out of bed, checked my sheets, checked my feet, looked my brother in the eyes and started telling him about my terrible dreams.
he then fearlessly pointed at the two enormous love making spiders behind me, taking up most of my wall with their screaming bodies.
it sang to me in the key of guns, guns, guns, guns, guns.
the fear had woken me up once more.
i lied there long enough to notice an awful pain in my stomach.
if your chest was a wall, i'd punch a hole through it
you're so much prettier than you mother's maiden name,
her whore name,
the name she embraced as a whore.
i want to watch you rot.
but i know the pain my stomach is still going to be there when i wake up,
so what's the point?
i'd rather go back to sleep and watch those spiders fuck.
