dream dying Pt. 1 & 2

As a small boy I got shot in the forehead
and fell down in a dream. I knew
I was supposed to lie there, dead, but
the other kids all kept running around
in the wide-open maze we were playing in
(a lot of freestanding partitions. Not really
a maze, but enough to provide some cover).
I think one team of kids had guns
and the other did not.

Pretty sure I did not. 

Anyway, after a while lying there
I tried the edges of the hole with my finger
and came away with blood. I even probed

into it a touch.

It was freaky cool. Past a certain point
all the other kids running, yelling, playing,
shooting - I got up and started running around
again. "Fuck this," was my thought 

though I was too young then 
to know the words for it.  

They all complained. "Lie down!"
"You're dead!" "You're doing it wrong!"

A while later a kid at school told
the other kids all grave spooky serious
how if you die in a dream you die in real life.

I laughed out loud. The kid was all look of accusation.
I couldn't explain. Too much.

I was just like "I'll chance it." 

Another (dream) time I was ambushed, engulfed, suffocated
and totally dissolved by the Blob. The movie monster

the Blob. My worst horror monster, though slugs 
were actually worse, fear-wise. Slugs were real.

The process was gross. There was nothing left of me
after. But apparently the Blob miscalculated. I was still
aware, and with no body left ("my poor body!!"
I remember thinking - it was ineffably sad,
the whole thing) I was, by default...the Blob. 

So I rolled my murderous amorphous mass
away from the scene through tall weeds,
feeling them stick and bend under me, leaving

a smoking trail. I was determined that nothing like this

would ever happen to anyone again. That night, 
that dream, the Blob became vegetarian.