The Severity of Lucid Dreaming


                                                                                                The Tragedy of How I Returned to the Smiths

a while to go, some time before the hour of the wake
a second or a day, the nipples of my eyes are now erect
the little hairs that end my lids flutter unconsciously, shy and obedient
my lips have kneeled in silent prayer, good girl he tells me and I swallow
my pride, the bees in my duodenum all sting and I swallow them too
have intercourse with me, I say, trying to forgo the use of fuck
he smirks and I find it difficult to breathe when his fingers comb the curls I spend so much to birth
I almost beg but not yet, too soon or too late or too obvious or too much or too little
I crack my knuckles on the floor, I let my nails puncture the heel of my palm
so alone, I know, such a good distraction, I know; good girl, he says and my tongue darts out
his tie is undone, long and tickling my forehead when I sit up a little
the army of bees attacks, I groan; so vicious, and absolutely no honey to pour from my pores
he never promised anything, I know, but it’s so easy to forget when his fingers
when his fingers, his nails, his lips, his fingers and that blasted grin that makes me sigh with hope
he never promised anything, and I always knew, but I forget, I forgot, I tell him
he smirks and I lose myself in those smug lips, I lose myself in his arms, it’s warm and easy to do so
I can’t stay, he says and I bite my tongue to stop from pulling a Meredith Grey on him
I’m more than a bloody pick me choose me love me, I won’t be at Joe’s tonight
I’ll be in the pub, drowning in Irish liquid and having a Scottish prick drown in me
go then, she’s waiting, I tell him and I go from his good little slut to my own cold-hearted bitch
no hard feelings, he tells me, half asking; I raise an eyebrow and lick my lips
you’re not that important, darling, I lie and wrap my own skin around myself
he nods solemnly and shuts the door quietly on his way out; just a distraction, I know
the bees turned wasps turned demons turned necrophagous horrendous pets swivel ferociously
I crawl into bed and will myself to sleep; I’ll Scarlett the fuck out of myself and think tomorrow
have intercourse with me ??? who says that shit, who says that instead of the entirety that is the word fuck
and fuck me and fuck you too, darling; I’ll will myself to sleep and in some roundabout way be awake
the little scavenger fucks salute with a flesh eating joy. I once had a dream I start telling the story […]


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