Too close...

Walking through my college, I stop to admire the beauty of a students art piece, standing on the grass, a silhouette of a weeping woman made of metallic strips. This lovely piece awestruck me and my mouth fell open. I could feel the weight on my shoulders. Walking to the front of the building, I could feel a presence behind me. Who?

As I prepared to make a run for it, a man grabs me. He wraps his arms around my body, picking me off the ground and towards the road. I struggle like a fish out of water. Screaming my head off, nobody can hear. Nobody can see me. As if my strength left me, I collapse into darkness with only the afterimage of something like a lid pushing me further into darkness.

I scream for dear life. I'm scared. I want to get out. I want out. I don't want to be in the dark. In the dark, shadows and nothingness combine, leaving no evidence that one is even there. As if the existence of that person is gone. A part of the dark.

The darkness grew more real and sensations of rope pricked at my wrists, as if it were real. Kicking around, there were no walls. There was nothing, I couldn't even feel where I laid, as if floating.
Suddenly, like a switch, I felt it; the ground, cold and hard. And light flooded my eyes. Where was I . Looking into the light hurts so I look away, back into the darkness. Its funny that when faced with the light I would rather look to the dark for comfort, considering the terror I feel.

"Everything that we see is a shadow cast by that which we do not see."

Survival

(This one is far too scary to remember accurately. I don't know if it will be scary to you but it was horrifying in my dream)

Its dark. Where is everyone? Confusion had spread to my core and meaningless questions floated in and out. With my mind blank, I crawl until light comes upon me. I stand at the doorway of men. 5 men behind a desk, mumbling a few words, they throw a sword at my feet and I lose the consciousness I had struggled to achieve.
I wake to lying on a bed, in my room, as if it were not a dream. The relief flooded me but the cautiousness never moved. I was scared. Why? Why am I scared of this feeling? The uneasy feeling in my heart was stacking up. On the verge of collapsing, I get up and look around. The clatter at the door toppled my unease. The clatter turned to banging and the door was caving in, wood flying everywhere, no place unscathed. The sword lay at my feet and I pick it up, acknowledging the eminence weight I would have to bear. Screaming was next. The screams were mixed with what sounded like the gargling of water, a truly grotesque noise.
The door now collapsed, I had no time to dawdle or even think as my fear and instinct kicked in. Kill. Kill. Kill. The urge grew and I swung the blade toward the bodies flinging themselves in. The flesh of my victims were ripping of with each swing. Urg... I wanted to puke whatever I had in my stomach but held back and continued to slash the air around me. Realizing I had yet to strike one down, I ran to the corner, countless scenarios ran through my head; tactics, techniques and plans of escape. Where do I hit? What do I do? Where is the exit? I decide to focus on a plan. Hit the bodies at a weak spot. This weak spot was unclear so I rummaged my mind to collect the info I needed. THE NECK. Without hesitation, I rounded what seemed like five people and swung at arms length. The weight was hurting my arms. I continued.
Looking up at the group only one remained. This was when I noticed the details of this monster. Pale blue skin. Blood covering their hands and mouths, they had been gnawing on each other or others I could have saved. Its arms were broken and yet had life and will to come at me. The horrid gargling noise was the attempt by them to breathe or digesting their last meal. My stomach churned as my desire to put it out of its misery increased. Although that increased, my fear of becoming them increased as well. Please dont hurt me!
My fear was not unjust, it ran with all its force to scratch me or bite me. The clothes on my body were my very protection that saved me. My shirt ripped but I was unharmed. Pissed off, I ran, shoving my sword through its neck. Die! 

As the quiet invited itself throughout the premises, the unease increased once more. Shivers ran down my spine at each creak, with each of my steps, I break a sweat. Time seemed to pass slowly.

Stepping out from the room, I step over the remains of the door; a heap of wood soaked with an almost black blood scattered over the floor. Doing my best, I try to avoid it. Who knows? It may be contagious. The blood is pooling, attraction to its own. The thickness would present time of death but in this case, I do not want to jump to conclusions. This may be the blood of others put in here and the bodies of ones who were like me; innocent and trapped.
In the clear, I come to a room devoid of any trace of ones who would live there. A stage. A stage of conflict, death, hate and blood. I was put here for some reason. I must find that reason. With no memory, I look around. Nothing. Only a sword and the clothes on my back, the ripped ones. Through the clothes, light pink lines come to view. What is it? Running my fingers along the lines, they are like caverns in my skin. A valleys of flesh. Scars. I was a fighter or a survivor.
Relaxing I breathed a sigh of relief. I will live.
Excruciating pain pierced my leg, paralyzing it. Looking down, the outline of a person is present through my tears. I shriek. It hurts! My body will not move. My will to fight is dwindling away like the hourglass of life; slowly and painfully. I'm falling through nails. I feel every inch of my skin being pierced as if a piece of meat laid out for the enjoyment of hungry men. Flesh is tearing away from my body.
Im dead yet I see the monsters chomping away at my body. I am but a meal as were the others.

Embryo

This bubble that separates me from others, it is only me. I'm different. Why? I bang on the clear barrier barring me inside, unable to escape. Desperate to get away, I start to scratch at the horrid membrane, it did nothing to me but I felt it changing me. I continue to bang and scratch at it until my fingers bleed and the nails are pushed back. I'm losing my mind. 
        "I want out!" The scream scared my being, hoping that the words get to the others elsewhere. It was a voice I had never heard. Who was it? 
        "Oh!" I realized I had never uttered a word of pain or expressed what I felt. Yelling again, I found each shout to decrease in hope. No matter how loud I yell, its all in my bubble. Nobody turns towards me or acknowledges my existence. Do I exist? Do I even exist? If I had a voice louder, I might reach them. However, the fear in my soul shook my body. Do I want to be seen? My hands bloody and this bubble contaminated. No! No! I can't! My being shook with fear. This body felt cold as it shrank into itself, sitting onto the floor. The bubble shrank, the oxygen in my lungs seemed thick and  I have to stay quiet. I have to be quiet so I will not be seen. I don't want anyone to see this disgusting busy of mine. Everything near me always gets hurt and it pains me to know this. My heart twinges with the knowledge, my body falling from sitting to lying on the bubble. Although it is clear, it is warm, so very warm. It scared me to know that the bubble was warm, causing my body to be induced with sadness. Knowing such warmth scares me and this feeling of comfort was momentary; fleeting. 
       "I am but a baby, scared of the world and the people who inhabit it. But I want to be born. How I want to be born!" The fear of others made me curl up, hugging myself. Oh! Thats funny. I feel that I look like a embryo, tainted in blood.

"Who are you?"

The words course from my mouth with a certain flow like the best quality wine. Words so rich, appealing, and luxurious but bitter to the tongue.
In the darkness, the figure steps closer. With each step, my heart pounds more and the nervousness from depths of my very state of being. My limbs shook with the same intensity as the day my love was confessed. My breath irregular, mind in a jumble.
A tall, thin, broad shouldered man appeared before my eyes. His upper body tries to reach for me however his legs are knee deep in a black sludge. He isnt sinking but he cant get out. He is trying his hardest to reach as far as his long arms will go but the distance cant be bridged.
"Why are you stuck?" His face still a blur. The outline of his eyes become visible and his mouth opened.
"You...listen...leave...hate...you..." Catching the only words audible. His voice was muffled as if he were wrapped in an invisible blanket.
My chest constricted and the pain inside seemed to crush my ribs with intense pressure. Sinking and pressure seemed to push my body back and onto the sludge.
The words become clear and my body begins to struggle. As the fog upon the figure clears, the nostalgic sense rushes back to me.
Denis. A man I love, however after being rejected I gave up. I thought I gave up but the heart wants what it wants. Ah! I knew it! He hates me! Why!?! I know I am not pretty and cant compare but I struggle and reach for what I desire. So why!?!
I begin to struggle and lash out at the scenery. Throwing the sludge, I stain the white walls closing in on us. My anger seemed to dissipate as I looked at him. Looking at me, he smiles his usual warm smile and my anger completely disappears.
As my mind clears, his words are repeated and I look up.

"You must listen and leave or the hate will devour you."

Struggling sinks me further. Stilling as time yet still moving, I know I can not stop it. I will hate myself for liking Denis and I accept it. The understanding that my own self-consciousness will torture me until I break. I don't want to forget love so I hurt myself in order to engrave it on my heart and soul.

Turtle Toy

(This is a weird one. You may not understand.)

I walk down this familiar hall, the perfect path. Turning, the door to an office sits open, stopping itself against the weight of magazines. 

Peeking from behind the door is a stand, a toy stand, many types of toys clipped to the bars. Only a small amount of force and it would topple. 

A small green toy lays on the floor. Ugly yet beautiful like the world.

I stare for a moment, unsure of what to think of this particular toy. What am I to think of a toy dirty and imperfect.

However, as I reach for it, it falls through the crack on the floor. Its out of reach.

 Like a turtle, it crawled from my grasp. Laughter echoed from the turtle doll. It mocks me. It laughs at the pitiful image of my arm swinging, fingers outstretched for only a moment remained until a nail runs down my arm. 

Blood runs from the wound. Thick black liquid drips onto the turtle doll, burning it. 

I am a tainted being. Living on thoughts of boundaries.

Poem after waking up

I am drowning.

My body is sinking

I cant breathe.

My body wet from head to toe.

Am I going to die?

I hold my breathe for minutes.

The pain is unbearable.

Lungs on fire and about to burst.

My mouth flies open.

A familiar taste fills my mouth.

Blood.

My chest burns

Poison.

Its my blood.

Its killing me.

My will opens my eyes.

Butterfly's

White butterfly's swirl and taunt me.

Hah!

They win.

As they are a "Bloody Butterfly".

Running

Im running. What am I running from?
Im scared to look back. What am I scared of?
I feel as though, if I look back I wont be able to escape.
I feel wind hit me like a punch to the abdominal region. It bruises but I ignore it.
I feel thorns puncturing my feet from running bare foot. I ignore it as well.
My breathe visible in the winter wind as it bites my lungs.
I am climbing now, through a rose bush. The thorns hurt and my torso is scratched to shreds but I keep going. I have to escape. I need to get away from here. Mind black, no goal, no destination. I am just running but why? I have no reason but I am going. My instincts have took over. There is no pain but I know I should be feeling it. My body is ripping to ribbons and my lungs are giving out but I feel nothing. I am floating over what appears to be my body, running but it isnt me. Looking behind to my pursuer, I see nothing. Nobody is chasing me. Then, why am I running? My body is sucking my spirit form back in. Thoughts, feelings, pain rush back to me.
Im running from myself. I am hoping that I die. I am hoping that I am able to pass out. Not having to face myself.