last night dreamed i wasn't in my own shoes

but instead a character of a story 

begging to be written

in my mind, she ran

from a man threatening 

to tear her down

so she climbed into bed

with a bloodthirsty creature

but somehow she reveled in it

because at least, while it consumed her alive

it loved her while it did 

and i wondered to myself

why would i dream this

if the story wasn't my own

and it took me a while

but i realized

it's just one i've heard 

a thousand times