Needles

another knife,
another dream
needles through my skin
drug me as I sleep,
force that poison in
make me addicted,
make me blunt and faint
I'm already bound to it,
to my anger, to my hate
make me sleep forever,
what difference does it make
the horrors are with me either way
may I be sleeping,
may I be awake.
_______________________

I wrote this in my lunch hour, inspired by a dream I had last night about me being some misunderstood drug addict, being pumped full of drugs whenever I slept, and nobody would believe me when I said it wasn't me doing it. I believe this strange dream derives from the passage I wrote of my novel last night, where one of the main characters receives a shot that pierces the skin of her arm. Nevertheless, it was a really shaky and scary nightmare, where I had fights with one of my best friend over this uncontrolled addiction. Sometimes I'm glad this kinda stuff can actually result in something as creative as poetry and its like. Good to know it comes of any use, huh? However you'd like to look at it, here's another poem of mine, and I think you can see more layers of it than what I've described to you here.