when I'm eating
I pretend I'm a dinosaur
because they look cool when they eat,
and the food feels different when
I pull it into my mouth with my tongue
because dinosaurs don't have hands.
when I'm standing very still
I pretend I'm in a painting,
and I notice the lines in the floor tiles
that run away from and towards me,
or wonder what someone in an art gallery
would think about my posture,
and would they be surprised to know
that I'm thinking about them.
when I'm running a race
I pretend that I'm a shadow
of a cloud passing overhead
as fast as the wind,
and passing over any obstacle
that would stop someone on the ground.
I pretend I have a million dollars
and I give half of it to my parents,
so they can finish their dreams,
and I give a quarter to my brother and sister,
and I put the rest in the bank,
or pay for my college,
and maybe buy a dress.
when I ski classic
I pretend that I'm a mine cart
when I tuck low going down a hill,
and descend to an unknown
treasure or adventure,
and I can't always see the bottom.
when I run an errand
I pretend I'm a spy
with a vital mission,
should I choose to accept it,
with orders from high command
to retrieve an item from storage,
or relay an important message
that supper is ready.
when I'm falling asleep
I pretend that there are creatures
that come out of the pajamazon
because they only exist after bedtime
when I put my pajamas on,
and I watch the dark corners of the room.
even though I'm not,
I pretend that I'm the best
at something hard for me
because it gives me a perspective
to work on the things I can,
and leave the rest to God
that's all I really need.
when its no laughing matter
I don't pretend at all,
and I focus,
and I'm serious,
but if no one was hurt
I can't keep a straight face.