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Waking from a dream is like being homeless
Time moves so slowly
nothing makes sense
I fight for the little things
open doors are like fences
symbols and memories
patterns and games
not wanting to miss out
holding tightly to sand
putting on faces
and being a good dad
trying not to feel lonely
irritated or sad
surrounded by people who love me
my monologue is too long to hear
i notice things
patterns
behaviors
hard to ignore
i can slow it down
mow it down
it grows right back up
random stacks
books brought
random concrete blocks
my brain gets so crowded
with memories
that won't fade away
most people call it gifted
but to me
it's more like crazy
it feels homeless
without a place to call home
it feels homeless
not hopeless
unsettled bones
where i will land
here I stand
here I go
homeless
inside outside homeless
wandering moments homeless
from moments to photographs
homeless
but not alone
my heart feels all mushy
hazy of uncertainty
I told him I'm sorry
For the stupid things I sometimes say
it's not easy noticing who people are
on the inside
I'm cursed with this blessing
to be homeless wherever you are
waking and walking
through life
waking and walking
though fields of this life
waking and walking through dreams
and streams
I'm homeless
yet
intensely aware
wild and free
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