Okay, here goes (short version):

I am sitting in a modern day colleseum, near the front of a spoken-art performance. As I sit there, my tongue starts to grow and breaks all of my front teeth into jagged craggy remnants. I feel this happening, and horrified, I go backstage to find my mother and tell her. I'm searching for her, but as I walk, I start biting off pieces my elongated tongue. Um, this is very visceral... something like chewing on slightly solidified and bumpy slugs without the slime, instead just lots of blood. I start spitting out the bloody pieces, which look like lumps of grey matter.

I find my mother, and am nervous, scared, about telling her what's happened; this is my fault. Finally I tell her, and she sits down and goes into hysterics as I wag my bleeding stumpy tongue around trying to tell her what happened. The tongue keeps catching on the front of my broken teeth and smearing blood all around them.

Um. Am I going crazy? This dream was so frightening that I actually woke up in a sweat and had to calm down. Usually, I can just "steer" myself away from a dream that is too disturbing.

In order to detoxify it, I am inviting interpretations. I'll start. Many Russians believe (or so I have been told) that when you dream about teeth, it's really about your family. This seems to be reinforced by the entrance of my mother. So, this dream is about connecting with mum somehow. But it's also about language and voice; somehow, I've been destroying some part of me that grows grotesque and invites its own demise. Truthfully, maybe my energy has been a little dark, grotesque, and overly brooding for awhile... maybe I have to chew off my own tongue in order to grow a new one... and somehow this involves my family(?).

There's a too-literal reading. I'll have to come up with more.