Fire, the burnt rubber smell and the reek of gasoline.
Suddenly I’m back in the burning car.
This time the seatbelt is stuck,
No matter what I do I can’t get out.
I can feel my face burning hot as the flames get closer and closer.
Unbearable and immense pain.
The agony and uselessness.
And there she is, Della.
Standing outside that burning car,
Laughing smiling.
“Gotcha this time.”
Then I wake up,
My whole body feels hot and my face is drenched in sweat.
Like the dream was in fact real…
-
The nightmares differentiate
First it’s the burning car I was in just a week before thanksgiving.
Second it’s running into her house trashed and her cutting herself with the glass from the mirror.
Third it’s a wedding with her,
As she laughs in my face and runs off with someone else.
Fourth it’s the empty dark room as she’s there,
Saying repeatedly every hurtful thing she could.
The only way I can make her stop is by saying I love you,
Then she becomes this happy person.
And brings her family and friends in,
Lies straight to their faces and pretends it’s a healthy relationship or hides it.
Either way these nightmares are getting worse.
They don’t sound as bad as I’m writing on here,
Yet in reality I am tormented…

We got back together
and as we kissed
all i could taste on your lips
was regret

I idolise it here
And despise it here,

We rekindled our love,
Under the stars,
Looking at the moon
Yet part of me died in here.

Being short of
A healthy breath
Is the footfall of
Impending death