Sleep Walk

Sleep walk when I'm awake.

I have these glasses with red frames that have these bulging blood shot contracted eyes open wide with brows lifted beyond the hairline... of the implied face.

They help me out when I'm walking.

I've always been a natural walker. I came out the womb feet first bent my knees and pushed off of the placenta. A little slick but my tootsies have a monkey strong grasp of the earth.

When I exited, the doctor shined a light on my closed lids. He's not responding to light. I was just a little tired, the whole transition outside of Plato's cave was a little overwhelming for a little tyke.

I never was much of a looker, always preferred the unconscious images sloshing around inside my skull.

I found it hard to couple in my spawning years as when in bed. Under the covers I would pedal an invisible bicycle. My perturbed pissed partner would spout WAKE UP, WILLY! I would just keep on kicking.

My teachers in class would say Willy works hard but does not listen. I would yawn and retort I listen with my ears not my eyes. Some teachers would even grab a ruler and try to wedge it in-between my lids. It wouldn't do much. A dry twig trying to pry open a bear trap.

I wasn't cool, and wasn't making the seen. They always say if you can see them, they can see you. I was invisible.