Grace

I chased you down the classroom hall,
but you did not notice when I fell.
Stumbling along various shades of cream-colored VCT tiles,
I followed you through the maze of open lockers and laughter.
In the shadows I wrote letters to you
in a white, college-ruled notebook that resembled how you appeared.
Pure, perfect penmanship, fine lines, and letters that flowed
in movements like ballerinas dancing the Nutcracker
on a stage with red, satin curtains.
If we were all meant to be dancers like you,
things would forever appear stunningly beautiful and graceful.
With two left feet, I lacked the poise to follow your movements,
but watched from afar jotting words and rhythms as you danced
through the classroom hall.

Dream Catchers

Suddenly the sound of pedestrians draws me from sleep,
and memories flash vividly while eyes open abruptly.
When recalling the visions of color and darkness,
faces appear at my window, knocking, screaming,
demanding physical movement evidencing I am conscious.
Additional corpses move along the sidewalk lacking
passion for life or a reason to spontaneously survive.
The onlookers at the window cannot embezzle my dreams
as I fall back asleep into a state of freedom and ecstasy.
The screaming becomes shouting, and the knocking grows
to pounding as jealously captures their meaningless souls.
Deafness falls upon my ears, rapid eye movement prevails,
and dreams enrapture thoughts even while sitting awake.