here is a something I wrote

I wrote it quite a while ago. Anyway. My girlfriend didn't think much of it, but still:

In my dreams my favourite ice-cream
Tastes like a bad hangover
And the faster I run from the monster
Of course I go slower and slower
And I miss by a second the familiar bus
That goes to the house of my lover
And when I do get there in the end
I find her dead in the shower.

At this point, I wake up, check that she's still breathing, and turn over.
And she turns too, looking like an angel, my otherwise psychotic significant other.

When I tell her about it in the morning, she takes out her Jungian de-coder.
The monster is easy: it's obviously my over-controlling mother.
The ice-cream is our sex-life, the less said about it the better
And as for "missing the bus" - she's been trying to expain that to me forever.
She frowns for a bit over her dramatic Hotchkokian murder,
And then says I should "talk more about stuff", not fantasise about killing her.

I watch her get ready for work, mentally kissing each little toe and finger
I would never never want you dead, my irreplacable, wonderful lover.