Impossiblities

Parking lots. Lockers. A million high schools blurred into one.
A twisted hallway, a tiny dark classroom.

Chalkboards containing unfamiliar names, dates, words…
I’m failing to understand the dream,
begin noticing people from reality.

A missing tooth in a red plastic treasure chest.
I must put these ideas and more to rest.

Amusement parks complete with Ferris wheels, and
dizzy rides spring up allowing me a place to hide.

We drive on highways or down gravel roads,
across giant bridges but every time we swerve.

I fly through windshields. I wake, raking air
into breaking lungs.

Impossible details,
imprints of my sleeping life
interpreted in waking life…

It goes on like that until I click
the light pulling on a grimy white string
ending up in various versions of my bedroom
with all the lost antique furniture.

I get so lost. Confused. Then my mind turns to you.
Blank. Smiling in a sleepy state, demons set to rest
until I wake.