The dreams make no sense. Yet the feelings are real.
Heed this warning. Remember to tread with care.

The eyes focused on a blurred object.
The gaze becomes a stare.

You’re filled with uncertainty.
The image feels like a mirage.
But you know it’s really there.

The vision clears like a plant breaking through the surface.
It’s beauty is radiant. It’s too much to bare.

I wanted to write a poem
And name it
"Baby Carrots"

I was going to write about
how your favorite band
was Pink Floyd,
and how I see your face
in the surface of the swimming pool
behind your house.

I was going to write about
the bus seats
with burn marks
and scratches in the vinyl
that you left in the backs.

I was going to write about
your faded red hair and
how everyone laughed,
including you.

I was going to write about
your funeral.

I was going to write about
your bedroom door
and how when I look at it
I think,
that for maybe a second,
you're sitting in there,
fixing a computer.

I was going to write about
the empty space
in the room
when everyone's together
aside from you.

I decided to let you rest.
You need your sleep.
I hope some day,
if there is some world after all of this,
I see you again.

Just in case I don't,

I wanted to write a poem.

We could make leaves jealous of the way we are f
                                                               ­                        a
                                                               ­                      l
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                                      ­                                                i
               ­                                                                 ­     n
                                                               ­                        g.

u used to like the way i listen u liked it more when i'd speak
i'd fall asleep to ur voice and find heaven in ur heartbeats
missing u hurts my core, makes me think feel and cry
tell me if my hands didn't still shake when i see u would u allow urs in mine

i don't really know what it feels like to be in love but i think the clouds look nice about an hour before sunset when it seems like everything is submerged underneath a blanket of cotton
or maybe in the morning, when the sky is so blue but the clouds are so sad and so soft like the froth that sits on top of my soda in the summertime when its hot
or right before a sunset when the clouds are dripping gold and the sky seems to soak up all of their honey, honey like the bottles tucked away in the pantry, honey like the eyes of the spiral-haired boy living across the street
and i sit and watch how beautiful the sky is from the sweet-smelling sheets of my bed or the lonely window in my classroom or the passenger seat of my father's car and think of how beautiful it must be to be in love

Step 1: Get out of bed
Step 2: Look in the mirror
Step 3: Practice your smile
Step 4: Eyedrops to hide the red eyes
Step 5: Conceal the dark circles
Step 6: Breathe
The curtains are almost up
Step 7: Lock down the pain
Step 8: Ignore the weight on your chest
Step 9: Silence the screams inside of your mind
Step 10: Choke down the sobs
Step 11: Ignore the stinging in your eyes
Step 12: Swallow past the tightness in your throat
You’ve put on this show a million times
Step 13: Don’t let them see
Times up. Curtains up. Camera rolling

I close my eyes and all I can see are flashes from that night.
Its quiet, yet I’m wide awake
One more episode then bed
A strange odor fills the room
Smoke
Panic sets in
Body’s rushing through the house
The sound of fire trucks in the distance
Smoke
Thick grey and black tornados
A loud pop as all the windows shatter
Then silence
Flames seep through the windows and doors
It’s climbing through the house
All I can do is sit and watch as the smoke fills the sky
Nothing’s left but an outline of a house that’s no longer a home