Three

I have nightmares every night.

You are in all of them.

Every single one.

In some you love me, and in some we fight.

In the best of them, you tell me that I’m right.

And every morning passes the same way.

I wake up sick, covered in sweat, and take more drugs to ease the pain.

To stop the screaming in my brain.

But still, it’s always the same.

It’s always your voice.

Asking me, “How could you hurt me?”

I try to scream back.

That I didn’t think I had a choice.

That I could already feel you slowly going away, because of me.

That I was angry, and I had to act first.

But you can’t hear me.

No sound comes with what I say.

It’s terrifying.

But the thought that creeps in and shakes me to my core, is the thought of you having more.

More than I could ever give you.

With another boy.

A boy who isn’t me.

And I can hear you scream.

But it’s not a scream like the one in my head.

I just don’t understand.

Now every day I wake up pissed off that I’m not dead.

Despite that, I still get up and pray.

I pray that you’ll hear me screaming back to you, one day.

So that I can finally wake up.

The drugs are kicking in now.

I think tonight I’ll try to run.