Nightmares (Thought) Poem by Poet of the River

Anger makes you hotter,
If you were a beast,
you would have sharp nails and fur.
And as you howl in the night,
After a glorious feast.
Your only thought is,
You cannot spell slaughter,
with out spelling laughter.
blood thirsty as you are,
you think you are sane.
as your eyes dilate and change.
to a dark abyss.
You forget your name,
you show your teeth and hiss.
Then suddenly you blink.
You turn to smile at the moon.
You are glad things are not what they seem.
You must have dosed off,
it was just a dream.
Or are you now asleep?