The darkest moments of my life were once those that began each and every day
When bony fingers with twisted knuckles and claws daily dove into the depths of my dreams
Kicking and screaming I was dragged away from the happiest place I'd known
The world I had made my own to be my paradise.

The morning brought me back to my consciousness
The harsh light in my window bombarding me, and I begged to be released
I pleaded with thee to return me to the comfort of the place where nothing is wrong
The place where ordinary flowers bloom and never die, because she is there to give them life.

Each day I had a message for you, the morning, mourning indeed,
A putrid hatred that I spat at you day after day
Until the hatred subsided and gave way to something much worse
A numbness that took away my pain, but left me with nothing to replace it.

So for a long while, a seemingly immeasurably number of days, hours, minutes, and seconds
I went about my day feeling nothing, being nothing, and giving life to nothing,
And how I longed for her to bring life to the flowers for real, so that I may hold them as I once held her
But only in my imaginary place would she be there waiting for me with bouquets beneath her feet

In spite of this torture, I am a hopeful soul, I carry with me the wish of better days
And so I have a new message for the morning, and gratitude for all its done to me:
You have taught me many things, and even as I hated you you brought to me your light every day
You have never given up on me, and I have made it my passion never to give up on myself

One day I will know once again the joy I knew then
One day another tiny hand will place in mine a beautiful bouquet
And as long as I hold her hand in mine, this bouquet will never die, as was all the others' fate
But I will never again wake to such a sweet smell or warm touch, if I refuse again to wake.

1... 2... 3...
The memories spill to the front of my focus
The sights and the smells overwhelming me and
There is no escape but to wake.
The grass in my nose smells so sweet
But it brings me to the bitterness of being his
When I was too young to belong to anyone.
Through the front door,
Anything normal is hazy.
The blurry glow of this memory follows me
As I turn right down the hallway
Then through his door.
A jump from here to the bed with nothing between
Like my mind only has room for what haunts me in these dreams
And then 1... 2... 3...
Now I can't breathe
His hands are on me and I cannot break free
I lie still while his hands wander
Like hyenas scavenging for a morsel to taste
My heart starts to race
when his fingers find their target.

1... 2... 3... shots and three beers
In a basement full of people
Full of cheers
The pong ball sinks into the cup.
I knock another back,
Take my own shot and miss.
A blur and another jump away
From when I was okay to where I was afraid.
Up the stairs and into the room
In a place I thought I was safe.
I turn to face him as he opens the door
And closes it tight behind him.
The click of the door, a bullet in my mind,
Louder even the sound of my heartbeat in my ears.
He creeps closer to me and kisses me.
What's happening, who is he,
and how did I get here?
I muster up the strength to pull my head away
He pulls my face back to his
I can whisper "no," but I cannot push him away.
I drank too much to have any say
In this, the thing that could never happen to me.
I scream at my limbs to kick at him.
They ignore me, and remain still.
Once again the wandering hyenas,
so I squirm and I move but it's of no use.
He pulls and claws at my jeans,
Slipping them off and now his hands in their place.
1... 2... 3... times I pleaded with him to stop,
To leave me alone, but he simply won't go.

1... 2... 3... He is sweet.
When we text his words are like butterflies.
They land in my stomach
With thoughts of what it is like to be with him in person.
Flash, and now our first date.
At midnight.
In his room, watching videos.
Laughing like nothing is wrong,
He kisses me.
I smile as I grab him,
Pull him closer and kiss him harder,
But that's all I wanted from the night,
Nothing more, nothing more.
1... 2... 3... of my own poor decisions
And my own poor judgement,
Turn his crime into my punishment.
1... 2... 3... swift movements.
I'm on my back with his knees on my arms.
His hands are at his own belt and mine are fighting,
But I haven't yet caught my breath
On his bed with him on my chest.
What is happening, what am I seeing,
How did I get here again?
I struggle to keep my teeth clenched.
He pries my mouth open.
1... 2... 3... times this has happened to me,
The previous memories step forward,
They give me a surge of strength because
1 and 2, but not 3 will beat me.
Jump to the wet warmth around my fingertips
As my nails dig into his thighs and grip tight.
Dig and pull, dig and pull, dig and pull, and
1... 2... 3... It's him that screams.
I push him off of me to run from the scene
To my car in the dark.
Where are my keys, where are my keys?
I look down to ****** hands,
and wake up.

1... 2... 3... of these dreams every night of my life.
1... 2... 3... times I will never forget to remember.
And now I know the signs like clockwork.
1... 2... but never again 3...