Dreams of Me

It begins like a dream
where a river runs between
my destination and me.
Feelings run as a tepid dirty trickle.

Now I sing a rusty hinge lullaby
that keeps every thought child
wide awake in the moonless night.
A landscape of dead diamonds.

Swept on like a fancy leaf dancing
at the water’s head, well now I know
where those leaves end their journey.
My talents seem so over-the-counter.

How long will disappointment catch
in the hairs of my desires?
I press down on the peeling sticky
stars on my old report cards.

I just want to be something.
In masks of glee and favor I
put the boy who had dreams
of being one with the heavens.

That boy rails inside my ribcage.
He whispers in my ears and begs me
to play with him again back in fields
holding up a window into the blue.

Dreams of every me I could have been
leave casualties within the me that is.
But, the me I hold now has never lost the
power to climb the peak I’ve eyed for so long.