Scattered

Tempting Dreams

I cannot say It hasn't crossed my mind.

I can't say I haven't stood under
suffocating- steaming water and thought about the air flowing through my body.

Or when it wouldn't.

What makes you a shell?

When there is no soul left?

When your eyes never open?

Or is it when your no longer fully there?

I can't say my eyes haven't devoured my broken body and spit it out.

I've felt the rough texture of a rope in my dreams.

I've seen the compelling thickness run down my arms.

I'v dreamt of needles piercing and pulling my skin, tighter across my bones.

Needles that will magically fix me.

Strong hands tempt me at night,

Daring me.

While my eyes remain broadly open, I am wholly asleep inside.

I beg for a touch from strong hands,

Strong hands that do what I've never been
able to.

To touch every inch of me.

Until I feel something more than drowning.

Until those hands are the ones holding me under water, choking me.

Releasing me.