All My Dreams

There are a lot of things I want to do. Dreams that I might never realize. Weight on my shoulders. Constantly designing a new me. I get under and stay deep in my skin. Privately lost in a sea of thought.
Ideas swarming like flies in the morning.
I can’t sleep.

Each day I wake to paint my face fresh. Making sure of the details. And it makes me weary to keep you from knowing that I am completely aware of every moment that I’m not living my dreams. Time ticks every day. Never asking permission. Days move smooth from your fingertips, even when they make a fist.

Time does a dripping across the eyes of this old house. Finding faults to bunker in.
Cozy.
Wrapped in truth.
Undeniably warming.
An inevitable repair left for next time.
Time holds here fast.
Distracting the breeze for a while
While time sits deeper.

Fuel. I turn it into fuel.
Cause I don’t want to stand by while my dreams cloud over. I don’t want them to forget me. And when I’m left to look back I want to see me the way my father dreams me.