I don’t know anything of poetry, prose or structure. Regarding this, I know only what I see with my physical eyes, my hearts eyes, and my minds eye. They are the unfiltered versions.

real-life-dreams
I ran down the two flights to hide.
I sat and buried my face to the vinyl cushion and began to let them run down my face.
The beauty I painted on my face, smearing.
The gorgeous girl I drew on my eyes, my cheeks,
my mouth–
smudged, smeared and real.

I was still too revealed, so I went behind
closed doors
It was there I saw who I wanted to be, running
down my face.
It was there I heard your footsteps, changing my hearts pace,
and life.

I listened and timed my next move clearly.
The footsteps approaching, I am breathing–
breathing.
The door swings in and I meet your eyes
your stare pierces and I am terrified.

To my surprise you leaned into my space,
you took your hand, and then cradled my face.
The next breath we shared, the inhale was bright
your mouth against mine, like a dream–
paralyzing me.

at the release you stare again, then disappear–
again. As you always disappear,
in those real-life-dreams