Nightmare

Nightmare

A Story by eatmills
"

To hear this it's on my profile page in the bio box in the radio widget or go to eatmills.com

"

Looking into the mirror of reality.

 Trying to get in on the words of others. 

You slay me and the horrid beast I brought to you as a gift for your failures marked in red.

 Fear the bed of disillusionment. 

You’ll never leave dear sweet one.  

Try.

Kill for me. 

The mirror of reality is there awaiting your painted lips of lies.

Your hope, I have crushed into fragments and it lies in the blood red sea of your begotten lover. 

Do you see the tree that lies over there in the horizon of sacred pool too dense to fall into without a well planned murder or a script. 

In the words of an arch that was once part of the cathedral that witnessed the birth of your destruction. 

“She lasted for ever and ever until, my stagehand could take no more. 

I did the only thing I knew how and shot him, had to leave him to migrate and whither.” 

You see we have the goods on you sister, so you might as well come along now instead of telling me that you know nothing at all. 

You are crying and your make-up runs; it can mean only that the raven flies in fear of future framing. 

Freedom, you beg like broken glass bleeding from the coldness of your mind that twitches at the mere thought of a good deed of present past.  Welcome to my world that is mine forever and ever. 

Oh!  You cringe so sensual as if some world is crashing down upon you. 

I could introduce you to my lover, if I so dared. 

I fear though it would be most demeaning to your status here. 

I know, what do you care. 

It is your little world. 

Only you have forgotten. 

I have control.

You should know you gave me power of attorney quite a while ago in measured grains of pain…

I mean sand. 

If you wish we could strike a bargain. 

The terms? 

Hmmm… let me see… 

We could copulate in the fields of lost dreams and caress until your hand falls off and the blood seeps into desires unwanted. 

Remember this will be the last time you’ll ever be able to castrate your dream. 

Think about it poor foolish one, can you not see that you will be hung and tried for treason!! 

No of course not. 

Fine! 

I am damned for trying to love you. 

The sweet succulent, sensual beast of lies that you are. 

As of this day forth you will bleed from orifices unknown to your cruel heart until the crying of rivers has stopped.


Wake up! The phone is for you.

© 2012 eatmills


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Added on August 14, 2011
Last Updated on January 8, 2012

Author

eatmills
eatmills

mississauga, ontaio, Canada



About
What do you want to know? I listen to surf, punk, metal, pop, techno, actually all music. Favourite Writers - William S Burroughs, Philip K Dick, Raymond Chandler, Stephen King, Edgar Allen Poe.. more..

Writing
Engine 9 Engine 9

A Poem by eatmills