I keep on dreaming of what didn't happen-
-or did it?


Lines of reality blurred
Nearly impossible to know
What's real, and what's fabricated


In my twisted mind I see
Shaky tires swerving
Into a wooden telephone poll
That acts like a sentinel 


Metal crunches, glass shatters
Peppering me, like razors
They cut into my skin,
And I bleed


I want to scream, but I can't
For I am being crushed into solid wood
My bones, like the finest of China
Break so easily under the onslaught


And before the world fades to black
The car has swerved, but I am alive
Having narrowly missed that pole


Everything is not as it seems
He is not comforting me, 
Not telling me everything will be okay


For he was the one to swerve that car
He is the one threatening
To spill my blood
Describing (ever so eloquently)
How he will cut my tender flesh
With a shiny blade


Time passes, but in what increments
I do not know
The days and nights slide together
Almost like fluid, but I don't flow with it


I am tossed from day to day
A cork struggling to remain afloat
In the roughest of currents
I nearly drown


Weeping, head down, nothing 
But guilt shame can I feel
I am alive, by the grace of God
And yet...


I don't deserve life