Sweet Dreams
poem by:
Jennifer Drake
Written
on Apr 20, 2019
Leaking, oozing, she's dizzy, she's wet, her entire face. WARNING! As she begins to fall, air stinging the burn in her face. HERE COMES ANOTHER.. She screams "NO!" -"NO BEGGING! IT'S TO LATE!!". WHACK....... oozing, she's weak, Blood covers, blonde turned red. -"I TOLD HER! " Screaming as i make her bite down onto the concrete curb. I see red, everything's turned red there is no turning back. They all come They scream, they beg me to stop as my foot digs deep into the back of her head and before the chilling crack I let go of my blood stained bat. slowly..slowly I turn theres no life in my eyes I grin and sit next to her, I cigarette no lighter, damn.. I ask for a light They stand there their mouths' are trembling they are all still in shock i get a light and take a puff and as I exhale... I'm smiling but dead as I stand staring at me they're all now so scared they don't know what to do Now my face is blank and I'm staring now i stare... ... cold so cold into each one of their eyes and when they start to scream the story just ends.. I jump, I'm gasping it was a dream I was asleep.
Tags: Anger, Scary, Dark, Imagery, Hate,
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A previous user commented on Apr 21, 2019 at 1:04pm
Negan would be proud ;)
Frank Hornby .
commented on May 03, 2019 at 11:39am
Fascinating poem....I never have a nice dream....always glad to snap out of them, and grateful that it was only a dream......I don't think I've dreamt of battering someone to death!....(but I have felt like it while awake).....hahaha...powerful imagery in your words.....
Jennifer Drake
commented on May 07, 2019 at 1:51am
Yes he and Edward Norton both! I thought i would get a reference to his curb biting scene before Neegan. Thats awesome. Huge dead fan!
Jennifer Drake
commented on May 07, 2019 at 1:58am
Thank you frank. I have always been that nice girl. Overly nice. The kind of nice that just takes from you ya know? I let it in to long before letting it out and thats when my dreams make me figure it all out afterall, our dreams are our most hidden selves in every sense of the word. Am i killer? Of coarse not... But there was a time i held on to a very angry, unhealthy hate for my goodness never being returned. I needed people and people always left. Disnt matter if i was my own mama. She would hate today and love me tomorrow. I had a very abusive childhood. Odd how age and our minds begin to mold and start sticking to that which we are used to it. I got extremely tired of carrying around 28 years of abuse with a bright smike and hopeful heart. I became vengeful and felt I deserved to be thst selfish.
