#gore-adjacent

thinking about tommys death and resurrection. thinking about dream, with no access to anything outside of what is in his cell. dream, bludgeoning tommys corpse and tearing apart skin and muscle to grab at his new tools. dream, with bone shards for scalpels and sewing needles, with tendon for string. tommy wasn’t using it right anyway. dream, who puts tommy back together piece by piece, just to destroy him again. and tommy, who is broken and made anew over and over, tommy, who paradoxically loses as much flesh as he gains, tommy, who is never whole but retains all the pieces, tommy, who’s cracks are not filled with gold but his own flesh, twisted and wrong, tommy, who’s broken and ugly, tommy, who walks with a limp now, tommy, whos bones never set right, tommy, who never fully left the prison, tommy, who is still sitting shiny and new on dreams countertop.