Whattashot's Gift

I lie then I lay

Down, I'm lying

Led to nothing

Lied to anything

Left too thin

Lift two in

Loft, crawling

Craft a thing

Coffee or something

Caught in the act

A cat in regret

A rat disrespect

That mad lad

So sad, a bread

Whose slices spread

Along, it's bad

Shape of dead

Around my head

I scream, I scratch

My nails are trashed

They sail to crash

Any isle of flesh

To get its blood

Pour out like a flood

Satisfying the mood

Eat it as food

Breaking the skin

Returning to the inn

Sitting on the couch

Laying so smooth

Then it awakes

It's me, for God's sake

No one in the chair

No one to give care

I just had a nightmare

For another I prepare

Myself, I'm scared