i'm a poet, did you know it?

I bought a small pack of thin notebooks, and have been writing poetry in them. I really want to start writing more, and a poem a day is not too much to handle.
This is my first, from February 20th.

Dreamed Seams

Embraced in cotton, all is surreal
thoughts skim, like oil across
the surface of conciousness.

Retinae flutter beneath lids
viewing, seeing what is not.
Mind exercising, reviewing what was,
making sense.

What I know then, is not existent
but so real. Tangible, colorful, more so
than waking.
This is the making:

The making of dreams, dreams
All is what it seems, sewn
at seams, light as air,
deep as seas.

My eyes move to view what can't be seen,
catch a glimps of what is true;
they can glean
a fragment of what makes up my mind,
myself, and I collect these,

In the pocket between waking and dreams,
and stitch them together, like so many
patches, an attempt to see,
the Whole,
What I am,
What is Me.