Nightmares

Why would I not write

Not on this very night

I have no fright

As I try to wake up, I realise

These are not my fears

I am not afraid and you shed my tears

I sharpen my meat knife

Wondering over all my plight

Will it be your face or heart

As I go to you slowly

I can see your eyes, only

The beauty with The newly bred

The hopelessness of the almost dead

I decide to cut it through

Another scar it will be

On your mind though

I am not real you see

I came, as I were, as a known memory.

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