Imagination

I'm on a porch swing The house behind me is empty I don't know how long I've been here There's a road in front of me There's no cars and no light It's blurry Yet my eyes work just fine I look down and see a stream of salty water My face is wet and my eyes sting Soft whimpers fill the otherwise quiet night The only other sound is the creak of the swing Then I hear my name It almost sounds foreign I hear a familiar voice The world around me opens up and comes to life I think for a second about where I was I almost end up with a wet face But I know how to hold it back