I Am Inverted, Upside-Down, Facing Backwards, Unable to Reach You

In these half-awake mornings I see more of you And the parallel house that I believe must exist And in half-dreams I am standing outside terrified to go in But always looking for the right angle to peak inside And the terror lies in that this memory is still a current fear And that this is not dream Just a part of the landscape that has formed me Making me sad and slow for all these years Whenever I want I can think of the big house And the small house disappears Taking my poor but honest past with it