Reality in dreams

I should have know this wouldn't turn out well
he nicknamed me Desdemona, and said he was under my spell
i didn't even like him, at first
i think i sensed his curse
 
He was something i didn't need
but to a friendship i agreed
we went out here and there
and every time my gut was telling me to beware
 
then somehow it all got tangled up and lines had been crossed
and everything i thought i knew was lost
he was anger, i was sadness
together we gave birth to madness
 
He needed me i need him
then everything turned grim
"Desdemona" he would scream out in his sleep
i would lay there all freaked, and not make a peep
 
then in the morning he would tell me his dreams
they were always about me it seemed
some were good most were bad
then his dreams started making him mad
 
he would wake in a fit of rage
telling me what i did, and how i belonged dead or in a cage
his dreams took over reality
and i became a victim of brutality
 
he said his dreams were a prophecy of things to come
so he must keep me under his thumb
I tried to ease his insane mind
and show him i was sweet and kind
 
but the night would come, and so would sleep
in the morning he would make me weep
i was a whore and had to be cheating
his dreams wouldn't lie, i deserved a beating
 
he punched, kicked and screamed
and he would tell me all his hideous dreams
i laid on the floor listening to his shit
every now and then taking a hit
 
I found myself in a state of complete misery
waiting on my next injury,
he would be ranting and raving
hitting me claiming i was misbehaving
 
i would laugh silently in my head
wishing him all types of dead
at one point he had me chained to a chair
he repeated the name Desdemona, and played with my hair
 
he said his dream oracle had told him it was time
he cut me loose,told me i was about to punished for my crimes
then walked me down the stairs
all the while playing with my hair
 
he told me to get on my knees
told me i was a whore and a sleaze  
he started punching me in my face
blood was all i could taste
 
he was tired needed a break
that was a huge mistake
the rage and anger flew from my soul
i stood up and lost control
 
i used whatever my hands touched first
i used all my strength hoping his head would burst
it was my Nana's brass lamp that struck his head
i kept beating him until i was for sure he was dead
 
and then i beat him some more  
kinda to settle the score
i only stopped because my hands started to hurt
i knew i needed my strength to put him in the dirt
 
it was hard cleaning all that blood from the floor
it was hard dragging him out the door
it was even harder to get him in the car
while i drove i saw a shooting star
 
I didn't make a wish, for mine had already come true
he was dead, all bloodied and pretty much blue
the moment he was a few feet underground  
i finally laughed out loud