while begging for my
life in a small room full of
people i knew, i
watched a woman who
looked like both
Glenn Close and Meryl Streep
shoot my sister
and three others.
within seconds a troupe
of armed men in
trench coats of varying
shades burst into the
room shooting. a
gun appeared in my
right hand but i
couldn't feel it and
rage broke over
me so i fired. it
wasn't loud with
all the shooting (every gun
had a silencer) and
i watched my
gun make blossoms
like melted candle
wax on the foreheads
of two men before
me but still, they
wouldn't die. i
couldn't feel any bullets
hit me until a soft,
viciously warm something
penetrated the front
of my skull and i
could see the wax-like blossom
form on my head. i
lay down slowly, waiting,
with everything black, i heard
cheering. then i opened
my eyes, awake.
Author notes
so this is actually the dream i had this morning. i really wanted to get it into a poem but i'm not happy with how this turned out. help
