Musings of the Insane

Dreams in Blood

I watch everything,

seeing nothing,

lost as the screams that echo,

through these silent halls.

**

Unicorns of gold and silver

walk beside me,

but their horns and fur are covered

in blood.

**

Rainbows high above me,

burning bright in the sunlight,

dripping blood and horror,

drowning me.

**

Unsure what to do,

except stare

and gawk at the gore covering

my body.

**

This blood horrifies me,

or should, shouldn't it?

I shouldn't be excited by it, or the pain,

but I am.

**

Why am I here, alone and broken,

unsure of everything but my own survival?

But now I start to wonder if it is even

worth the pain.

**

Childhood dreams and memories

used against me as weapons,

to break me slowly then

kill me.

**

Dreams and hopes that kept me alive

are being used to kill me.

The bitter irony burns me like nothing else,

my laughter echoing through my insanity.

**

I give up on any hope of leaving in one piece,

when I see the bloody knife in my hand,

and the chaos it caused without my permission,

the bodies lying in a pool of blood around me.

**

The knife in my hand

that killed everyone I loved,

is the knife that I used to beg for as a kid.

The bittersweet irony...