When I sleep I dream.
It happens a lot.
My brain sings to me during the night.
Dead people visit and make me cry,
or teach me a lesson.
Mean people make me angry and
I fly from them —
swimming through
the sky, escaping.
Sometimes I have naked-in-public dreams,
or no-shoes-in-the-snow dreams.
But I always find a way out:
wrap myself in curtains or toilet paper
or wear boxes on my feet.
Or at the very least
awaken
to find myself
in my own bed,
heart racing,
and safe.
+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++
I opened the box and out came an envelope.
I opened the envelope and out came a photo.
I opened my eyes and out came my tears.
