I hate dreaming about her,
Her hands immediate and cold,
Peeling back my shirt,
I lay down with my arms over my face and say:
'you shouldn't be allowed,'
In the time between night and day,
The puddle blue sky towers over me,
Pokes me back into sleep,
Where she might be.
How dare she!
Kind and gentle, her voice lullabying me into ease,
My mouth rising with a smile at the edges only to remember and feel double crushed,
Pressed into the bed by her shoe,
And worse,
Sometimes reality plays out and I have to relive it,
Like having my arm broken twice to reset the bone,
Crunch crunch,
I feel violated because my brain is for me and she shouldn't be allowed into the soft parts without my permission.
I wake and start the day with the stone in my throat and swallow and swallow and it does go away.