| WITH |
| She seaks for me in my dream with hands of ice. Pail in the face with clothes of tares. One finger extended further then the rest with cutes and scratches. Slowly it reaches for my forehead with no restrant. It connects with a chill like no other. My body freezes up with an icey pain. I gasp for air with all my might, But she beckons me with her mangled finger. Everything goes black with a numb sensation. I am waken from this "Dream" with a sweat-drenched body Only to realize that the kind (one) I hate and fear with all my heart Is the kind (one) I love. |