In my sleep,
I dream of a girl with beautiful eyes who brings me to her.
She touches my skin and her touch is infectious.
Lips and skin and hair fill my senses.
Yet quickly it turns,
And the beautiful girl has something in her hands-
It's different every time.
First she had a gun.
Yesterday it was a knife.
And she chases me, hate in her eyes.
Sometimes she catches me,
The bullet finds flesh,
And blood spills.
But sometimes I escape her grasp.
I run and run and run
Until I forget her eyes ever existed.
