Sweet Dreams Pg-13, 2-10-04
A cold hand
Grips my throat,
Freezing the blood in my heated veins
And setting my world on fire.
A decaying face laughs
As I'm pinned to the ground.
Hands
Reach out
For my already bruised flesh.
With talon like nails
He rips through my skin
Adding yet another mark
To my already scarred and broken body,
Over and over again.
A killer
Sent to torture,
The dead
Sent to make one feel.

A.N. this was a creative writing activity. Write a paragraph about a
something I choose nightmares. This is one of my dreams or what others call
"nightmares" and after we finished with the paragraph we were suppose to
break it up into poem form. This is what happened. I hope you like it.