So I had this dream last night which was fucking weird. Basically, was wearing the white ethereal gown which is ridiculous because would never wear white and was walking in this slow elegant manner at twilight right into the stream like Virginia Woolf and I laid down and let myself be drowned. Landlord was watching the whole thing but didn’t do anything to stop me but it turned out it was because he was dead, too. Probably because of his Parkinson’s, but I’m not sure because it’s not like my subconscious mind revealed that part of it but it did reveal that he was there and it was him who made me kill myself because he had that power over me. Probably still does. Fucker.
KOOL-AID: the dream
Published by giorge thomas
Giorge Thomas is a writer from Adelaide, Australia. Her poetry has been published in literary magazines in Australia, New Zealand and Britain. View all posts by giorge thomas
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