and things went dark.

I throw my self upwards
clawing my sheets off
pulling my sleeves up 
and checking 
to make sure the scars I saw in my dream 
aren't real 
they're not
thank god

my breathing slows 
and my heart steadies 
to it's normal thumping in my chest 
creating a rhythmic song of life
in my dark bedroom

I glance over 
and in the bedsheets
right next to me
is the knife 
from my nightmares
and a severed human hand 
that looks just like mine
even the chipped nail polish is the same

I go to yell for help
but another hand clamps down on my face
I bite it furiously 
and thrash a kick my way out of it's grasp
until I realize 
it's my other hand
I look down
and the marks are back 
my vision blurs
are they really there? 

the hands
my hands
crawl up my nightgown 
their fingers digging into my skin
I scream
but it sounds muffled even to me
and somehow I know nobody can hear me

the hands latch around my throat
and I try to pull them off but it's futile
the squeeze tighter and tighter
and with every squeeze I can feel the hot, sticky blood
my blood
pour out of my hands
and trickle in a steady stream down my back 

my body thrashes 
and connected hands claw in vain
but I can not stop the cold fingers tight around my neck
from cutting me off from the oxygen I so desperately need
things become even more blurry
and then 
things went dark.