Inside my Head

Is it strange that standing in line at the bank
Today I felt my heart race as I imagined a scene
Where robbers attacked and I dove under the table
Or no, made for the window, or that little office nearby
With the door open. Then I sighed and let it slip away
The feeling of being in one of those crime dramas
Not the feeling of true terror, that I couldn't imagine
Or didn't put enough effort in the moment, chose not to.
So then I felt normal once again and observed the other people
In line and through the window, and then I started wondering
About what the point of it all is. Life. The way we go about
Our lives. After a little while I let that slip away too
And soon it was my turn. The lady was nice behind the counter
I hummed and sang a little as I walked down the sidewalks,
Up them, on them. I think a few people heard me as they passed
I think one or two thought I was stupid and weird. It's true.
Later today, inside, I thought about moving two steps forward
And one step back. No. One step forward and two steps back.
I saw a hall of dirt, red-brown, and a line across. I stamped one foot
It left a shoe-print, one that I doesn't match to my actual shoes,
But that's what I saw in my head. And then I ran away back in my old section
My old sections, with other lines. I needed the space to dance.
I like to take up space when I dance. So I forgot about that foot-stamp
Over the line, and danced farther and farther away. Forgot about
How I was going to plant both feet firmly, and march across the new section
To a new line. And cross that one, too. I hope it's not too late to make it
Still. I want to show them. And I want to show myself.
I find a lot of importance and meaning in words.
But I want to have more than that, too.