| » Poem: Seven-inch nails and dreams |
Seven-inch nails and dreams
written by Poison Ivy01:37 AM 10/9/04Because they wanted you; Because they envied you, they wanted you dead. They hated you all this time. Laughing with you on occasion, but they deeply wanted you dead. Nailed to the ground. You are their idol. They want to be just like you.
As you went to the store for new belts, black lipstick and eyeliner, hair dye and some new boots, they planned their imaginary murder. They wanted your attention more than anything else. To be your friend. But they set themselves in the shadows and just watched you live your life.
They couldn’t hurt you. They loved you too much, to some point. An obsession. But the envy was out of control. They wanted you below the floorboard.
And as I fell asleep with this in mind, you scared the hell out of me.
This dream, you walked inside an abandoned house, reading something you wrote. And they followed you. They walked in behind you, with a box of seven-inch nails and a hammer. You turned around and said, “Um, hi. Yeah, can I help you?” Smiling wickedly, they said, “Yes, you can. . . . ” They did want something. You could see it in their eyes.
All I can remember were the nails piercing your flesh and bone. Your blood dripping as they nailed you to the floor, like the Romans nailed Jesus Christ to the cross on Calvary. Holes in your skin the size of rings. And you just stood there, taking the pain.
I walked in, knowing where you have gone, but not what was going on. Looking down, I said, “Hey, Emmanuel, do you have-” I looked up, “What the hell is going on?! What are you doing to him!?” Your shirt off and hair tied back. I walked towards you and I was stopped with a knife in my face. You were crying as another nail went into your shoulder.
You said, “I’ll be okay. Don’t try to help, I don’t want you hurt.” I stepped back with tears building up behind my eyes. I looked in your eyes, and they were screaming, ‘HELP ME!’ I looked at your arms and saw-your wrists were slit all the way to your neck. You were dying.
While you were crying, I cried. While you screamed, I flinched. This was all so wrong. They finally took out all the last nail, stabbed you again, and left. I ran over, and took out each nail. One by one. Your blood puddled around me by the time I was done. I cradled you in my arms and you were going cold. You said to me, ”I’m sorry. I let them do it.” I asked why. And your eyes rolled back to the back of your head, and you exhaled deeply.
I screamed, “NO!!!” As my tears fell onto your dead cheek. Begging you to come back. But you weren’t listening to me. You never did.
I woke up screaming. Crying. With the image of you in my arms fresh in my mind. I could still hear you screaming, ‘HELP ME!’ I touched your arm lightly to say hi. I saw you walking, and asked to see your arms. Wanting to prove to myself that it was all a dream, although I already knew. And thankfully, no wounds. And you turned around to wave at those people who killed you in my dream. How you waved and smiled at them-not knowing what they really wanted. Without knowing what I saw.
I wanted to hug you, but I didn’t want you thinking something was wrong. But remembering, seeing you crying, I wanted to cry right there.
Then I woke up again. For real. I woke up crying. In this dream I dreamed I was dreaming. Two dreams in one. Weird. But when I woke up, outside of this dream, I was really crying. Never have I dreamed of someone dying like that, let alone someone I know. I know it is a dream, but I cant help but feel that there is someone watching you. . . |
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Author's footnotes and comments on this Poem:
this was only a dream, but im still scared to look at you, Emmanuel. . . your blood and tears remain fresh in the mind. you really did scare the hell out of me.
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