My nightmares.

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My nightmares.
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- I have been the mother being assaulted in front of her child.
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- The child discovered, hiding terrified in the closet.
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- The attacker, with a gun, is placed in my mouth, and the trigger is pulled
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I've been shot, stabbed, sliced, hit the ground from a great height.
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I've been in loads of heads, both innocent and evil as they die.
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I know for a fact that you can die in your dreams and not die in real life!
I've died a hundred different ways in thousands of dreams.
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I vividly felt terror, pain, and tasted blood.
And then have to negotiate the first two hours that morning, remembering that they are 'only dreams'.
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I tried being religious. To pray whatever the hell this crap is away.
And in similar dreams, more than once, god said "no".
So after decades of this, how am I supposed to somehow not hate god's sadistic arse!
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They started before puberty.
Way back then, I fancied becoming a Catholic priest.
I did nothing to deserve this!
I didn't play with any occult crap to cause this.
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I got involved in occultism crap later and older, trying to find a cure!
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Obviously I gave up on that too.
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...And all I am left with now is a load of upsetting art and deathwish so the nightmares can finally stop.
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