This is to the moments that will be
but never were.
To the skyscraper dreams that stand up above us all
just to remind us that we really are small,
that even when the world stands before us it's you who makes it fall,
and mostly that you can't save it all.
This is for the waves of good,
not for the infinity of bad.
For the dreams that our nations youth once had
For the rubber bands
and my little heart strands that snap the same,
and the possibility that we can capture the moment when life is most clear.
Stay strong and carry on because you aren't the blame.

create a message
and receive it the same

Moon beam did you see
me in your dreams
for darling I don't understand
these
things

There are so many names
But all lack the mass
To stand above
Oceans and
crash
rebuild
crash.

I was dead all along
Predisposed to be a waste of wheezing breaths
I am the **** of the earth
Growing from ***** roots
I will always be the mutt,
the *******,
the runt.
Never will I reach heaven,
And never will I be at the top;
The cream of the crop.
I was born this way.
I am an addict.

he's a mouth breather
         with thick thoughts
               sinking in his brain
        and a tide that pushes
       him out
      then pulls him back
     again
He's a tongue tied
            trickle of conciousness
                  and a cigarette stain
Naturally numb,
                         jaded,
                                 and cracked.
                                    Broken goods
                             and no way
                         to revert
                      back.
A product of pressured pleasure,
the American man,
for he is a mouth breather
born into a can
             soaked in sour
                    preservatives
and sent off to
school in mom's minivan

This is not a poem.
This is my dedication to a man who touched my soul and gave me the gift of the most valuable knowlege I have ever gained in school.
I do not know how to explain Mr. Fowler in a paragraph and I feel as though any representation of him in just one small paragraph would be inadequate.  However I will do my best to share with you how he impacted my life my ninth grade year.  Ninth grade is a major transition year for everyone.  New people, new school, and still a little bit of that middle school juvenescence.  I was no exception to such awkwardness (as much as I'd like to believe I was) and Mr. Fowler inspired me even on the first day.  He had a passion for biology and even more than that he had a passion for dispensing his knowledge (as well as his own meandering thoughts) to his students.  He expressed his love for his work to us often; mostly just sprinkling it over his enthusiasm for a lab or whatever we were doing that day.  I may not have had an ideally left-brain thought process as you would wish for an honor biology student and yes I did struggle but Mr. Fowler would not have ever left me behind.  However he did not only touch my life academically.  For three weeks at the beginning of my second semester in high school I was absent due to depression, cutting, and bulimia.  My mind was at war with me and I told my parents I needed help.  They checked me into a rehabilitation center for the next three weeks. While out of school North Springs was not easy to get in touch with. In fact they didn't even answer my mothers calls to get my work until I was finishing the program and coming into school the next day.  Due to my school's lack of organization and incompetence I was three weeks behind and kept falling further and further.  I was supposed to be put on a plan by my school to make my recovery less stressful and to help me catch up.  That did not happen either.  My school didn't even count my absences excused despite the hospital notes… Two months passed and I was even more behind and growing more fearful that I would have to repeat second semester until I went to Coach Cushman and Mr. Fowler.  Mr. Fowler offered me support and I will never ever forget how kind he was too me.  He told me we all have health problems but that doesn't mean we can't move forward it just takes a little confidence and work.  He let me come talk to me whenever and gave me passes to stay after class.  He has a beautiful mind and a caring heart, and although it was severely hard for me to reach the level of understanding of the material that I had missed not only in biology but in every other subject I passed.  I cannot express my gratitude towards him for I may not be a tenth grader this year without his help and patience.  My condolences go to his family as well as the family he has with the North Springs staff.  I would also like to say that though Mr. Fowler may not be with us in a physical realm he is still here with us in spirit and one of the many lessons I believe should be taken away from his time with us is that you should love your work.  If you do not live for what you do, you are simply doing the wrong thing.

the universe is one room, one pocket of energy
and it's expanded void
just like life is made of two cells,
star dust, and waves of orange and pink
and a sickening red
burning into sun like grapefruit
oxidized and covered in incense
skin only stays smoke
torn by time and time because it's torn
useless is the same
sometimes I feel real, but I usually see out of myself not through my eyes
it's almost
like my blood isn't in balance with gravity
sometimes it pushes up against my skin, expands too fast for force,
towards the stars
which is where we all start
and all start to end.

It is hard to find
People
Who for small periods of
Time
Make you forget there is
Anyone else
In the world with you.

Try not to let those
People
Go.

You were a beat
Pumping rythym always
put you on your feet

You were the big Dean
A man of virtuous sin
and grandfather's raspberry gin

Now you're too tired
to even see the end

There is something
about your
fleeting fingertips
and the way
your mouth curls
resembling
how i
curl myself around
you

and your hands that
Are full
of doubt and
apathetically
****** dreams

There's something
about the way
Your smile
makes me feel

And the
way you hold
your cigarettes
to your lips
that reminds me
of how
you
sometimes
hold
    me.

"Try it out." he said
And my stomach
tangled with my brain
hunger
consumed me
but not the other
way around

we had always been
unvarnished
and mostly untouched
but then
I crept into the
basement of my
halfway thoughts
and there I wished
to hear him
one more
time

but I knew
his pale,
blue moon voice
had been lost
and I knew
the past could
only feel good once
and cigarettes couldn't
be smoked twice

I knew better
but still
   it came as such a surprise
that each fraudulent feeling
wouldn't seep the same
and even through
your stumbling words
I could tell
that you meant
well

Lately I've been
Thinking about this little girl
That was in the room next to mine
At the state rehab
Facility when I
Was 13
She was always
Crying
And being
Told to wash her face
Use her coping skills
She was 6
And her parents told
Her they were going
Out for
ice cream
Then they dropped her
Off
And she hasn't seen
Them in two weeks
So she's crying
And she's scared
And she's telling this
To a drugged up
Hospital gowned (they took all my clothes at check in)
Preteen
She's scared
I've got scars up
And down my arms

She's scared
And she's crying
And this isn't the ice cream parlor
Down the street
From her suburban home
And this isn't her bed
These aren't her friends
And I don't know why
But I promised her that everything would be ok
And that it was fine to be scared
         her parents were coming back

Everything would be fine
And perhaps there would be pudding
With sprinkles at lunch
Which is pretty close to ice cream.

I wrapped my pinky around
Hers
Half the size
And I promised her all of these things
None of which I really knew
To be true
A nurse came barreling down the hallway
And screamed at me
For interacting with a younger
Girl in a different program
Then they moved her to a different room

I never saw her again
Heard her cry
And I forgot about her
Little blotchy
Swollen face
Crying to me
Throughout the years

Then a few weeks ago
I remembered that you had promised to me
You would always be here
Which you couldn't possibly know
And I thought of the girl
And the ice cream
All of the promises I made

I wondered if I had lied
To her
And I wondered
Why we so often
Make promises
We aren't entirely sure
Will be kept?

When I was eight
I would fall asleep
in the corners
of my house
often left alone
because I felt
my bed
was the reason I could not sleep
I felt
like it knew
I wasn't worthy
of the pillow
or my sheets
or the cascade of
sunbeams
that would fall on my
face in the morning
just like they do now

I would walk around the house
empty and creaking
and I would walk into the kitchen
and hold a knife
to my stomach
with my reflection
in the granite counter top
and I would wonder
why I felt
that it was often better
to die than try to
deal
with my mind numbing
nothings
and the questions
they posed

I didn't know yet
people took their lives.
That people
felt these things sometimes
they had clouds
that would hang over heads
sometimes for months
I hadn't felt a loss
but still
I knew this ride
only had a one way
track
and I wanted off

It's heavy
to feel the heat
that runs through my
blood when I'm behind
the wheel of a car
or walking over
a bridge
it's difficult
to always see
ledges without
safety fences
and concrete columns
and not really understand why
the mineral mounds
in my brain
just aren't stacked the same
as Bill
or Jane
Because I've always known
this one track train
to not have a definitive escape
just a one way ticket
and only one lane

It's heavy to always
see ledges without
safety fences
and find some calm
some comfort in
that.

You know those moments
Where your heart sinks into your
Finger tips and
Seeps from your eyes
And your stomach is thrown
in every direction
Rattling around in your emptiness
In darkness
in cool
wet complacency

Those moments when your mind magnet
Sticks to every minute
Detail
every smirk
and every imperfection
created by the human hand

When
Every anxiety
every foul taste
And putrid smell
Rush through your body all at once

However
Any prose,
eloquent
it may be,
Is inadequate
In describing
Why one's
Heart beats

Puckered lines
Filtered out time
And a somber soul to face
Throw me in a tin can
Drown me in preservatives and peace
Comfort in inertia
Comfort in complacency
Comfort in a numbing confidence
that some how it'll work out
Wait
For change that's running
running
away

Back
Behind these yellow walls
Behind every unspoken fall
Here I am back, behind these walls.

And nine times out of ten
We're all the same

Last night
Was the first time
I have ever
Flinched when
A lover made
Too sharp of a movement
Out of the
Corner of my eye
And here I thought
I had rid myself of
Every trace of you.

Reality is not set in stone
Life
Life isn't real
Here
Here is life
He said
"Life can't be fake because the only thing you will ever consistently have until the day you die is the life you lead."
But it's scary not to know if I feel
If i see
If i touch, taste, smell
What's actually there
What if I can't see the blue
or the cold can't be felt
What if this isn't reality because reality
Is a dream when I was little
Those dreams that stayed with me when I was awake.

You're carved thin
and I'm built round
You're everything I wish to be
and I'm everything I wish I wasn't
You're not rough and
You're smooth but not slippery
When I just fluctuate between the three
and I hate that I can't match the way your pen spills onto your paper
and how your feet fit so perfectly when mine are either too big or too small
When I get sick
You do too
but people actually care.
When we speak I feel an inadequacy that is too familiar
I love you
It's just hard to be static
No...
It's just hard to be beautiful.

My feet
Are numb
And I can't
                                   Stand
         the deafening
Sound of
Sweet sounding
Nothings,
The bitter
And blank
Tingle of
White noise
That circulates
Rooms full
Of people.

Complacency
Black patent smiles
paired with
               business        ties
   Empty rooms
and cat fur coats
a sinful angel.

Why so somber saturn suns?
    Sleep so numb

Complacency
or the inert force of facing your fears
You lost all your big brass hair
searching for the apparition of a heart        thats
                                                                     never there.

acid stains you
like the thousands of neighbors you never really knew
acid changes you
like when the window panes climb to the sky
and you never really figure out why
acid stains you

we held hands in our rubber-shared-handstands
but you never really thought through your plans
the mountains would become the sun
and we could warm our guns
we would never know
how much we'd really changed

we were puzzles in layers of nothing
but it's all got to be for something
we were tired but we never really slept
dreaming with our eyes open
wishing not to forget

the candles and kaleidoscope hopes
time lapsed trees and stars on boulevard
halls of breath and crazy drug popes
i don't really know it's all dope

Cigarettes are expensive
but I need a reason
to stand outside of parties
and avoid
interaction.

It's that moment that's going to stick with you
That moment where you honestly think your life is about to end
As you clutch the blue corduroy fabric on your couch
And scream out in pain
Your body is screaming back at you just as violently
"How could you do this to me?"
Your stomach is gnawing through your skin
You know you need to eat but the thought of it just
Forces stomach acids into your throat
You swallow and try to clutch the couch harder
You try to get a better grip on reality
But this is it
It's scary because you've already lost everything except for your physical being
And now life and death is melting into that couch
"You
        Are
               Dying."

Then,
At that moment,
You decide to run.

Your breath is sweet
like cherry blossoms
your words, branches
casting patterns of shadow
and light upon
me
a symphony
a song
a poem
a love note
kept away in
the top drawer
of a dresser
aging
waiting
to pour out
into some lucky
heart
to be pumped through my veins
like music
like a dance

never have I moved
with such love.

I've always been
stubborn as hell
just like you
and I know we don't
share blood
but we shared
christmas fires
and a fickle set of ****** tires
we made up
a home together
my dad
you and me
one two and
three

I'm stubborn as hell
just like you
and
I'm never going to
be able to get
how you looked at me
the last time I saw your face.

To live or to die
To do what's natural
What's right and what's wrong
What's ******* and what's not.

A sense of self worth
Something I can't gain or lose
Something that's just gray
Not black or white

Folded gently in the thickness of the wall
Polar emotions surely will mark my fall
Until life is nothing, nothing at all

I miss when we were trees
All we knew was growing to the sun
And God was in my shoe box
When he gave me a shower
In purple pagan rocks
Coiled seasons were never
Created by a big bang
Rapid sings like vapid
With TV waves in brains
Colors smell like black and white
Greyscale is just your head
(Melted membrane to the third)
Why did our lips still taste like living pine
That's what I was waiting for
Our completely open sign.

In the end there was no depth
No talk of life in whithering flowers
Or "I can't stand to be without you"
Only ambiguous dialogue
And love lost in nights spent alone
I melted onto your skin like wax
Scarring your memories of me
Into a malavolent **** that lies on your left wrist
But blood is not something I can handle.
Not when I've seen that blood in a hundred different ways
Pushing and pulling me in and out of what's natural and not.
Because in the end there was no we
Just a you
And a me.

Blue like the jazz in your finger tips
                 the kind of somber tune that lingers on your breath
Like smoke stuck in the over grown hairs falling out of your ears
      and the 5 o'clock shadow thats grown from black to grey
              over these past few      
                   years.

There was velvet on that monarchs back
         she was drinking irish whiskey          and had a hollowed out voice
The past is gone
Except for on your tongue
Dancing in your mouth
from the top of your spine
to the root of your brain

The future is in your sheets
I'll leave you alone
I'll let you sleep
But you know I'll sit at the foot of your bed
Just to see you wake
         With diamonds in my eyes
                     and blue     jazz          in                   my                               blood.

I've been putting my
2 year old knots
up in a bun
with the loose hair
falling out like
spider limbs
for a few weeks now
hiding
my strength
behind a scarf
and sunglasses
hoping that maybe this
will disappear and leave
me alone
even though
that is the last thing I want to be
I've been hiding from you
by sleeping with my back
to the sky
and my
face buried in the sand

and today
I've started
to actually
listen
when I think
and hear
what I pretend
when I speak

Don't tell me how
   let me discover
   let me live with juvenessance
   and purity.
But then when the time comes
   I will have to experience
   I will be stained with the
       imperfections of the human hand...
                                                                      crushed.
Even then you must let me get *****
                                  let me feel pain.
                                  let me sit on the shore of vastness
                                  and let me contemplate what put me here.
Without suffering we have no reason to fight.
We have no drive for peace.
So let me be born
                        and born again
and let me search over
                                 and over again

                        until I become the one you cannot search for.

The toasty warm water
Synthetic nature, fluid in my veins
It almost felt like christmas
With jalapeños on top
It almost felt like the night
Your dying heart stopped
Wheezing beats poured in
And you washed your hands
Never ever to touch that needle again
But if only you had taken the chills
And the tired pain
You wouldn't be on this path
Of winter rain

Depression sinks like a ******* stain

Eloquence lost in the wind
Dissipated like smoke
Trickling down your chin
My eyes roll back into my head
The burning builds throughout my body
And I'd rather be dead

You know,
That live fast die young *******.
That's me.

I was your Saturn sun
I was your darkness won
I was a murdered dove
I was your hated love
I was strong but weak
and I never needed that peak
I tore into your attic
I crushed your velvet pops
I was your addiction
Then your time stopped
I held onto your cracked breath
I held onto your pain
I held onto your sacred touch
I dove into your frozen rain
Every kiss was magic
All the lust was the same
I miss your ****** face
I miss your lullabies

So until I see your swollen heart
I'll love your grave stone
Like I did from the start

You're my bones
Taking up your heavy stones
Can't possibly give me muscle loans
But you're still my bones

Finding time too fast
Crash, rebuild, and crash
Build up and trash

You're always in love
But what do you think it's made of?

Maybe my words are too thick
Maybe I call you out too quick
Maybe my stucco sticking dreams
Aren't all that I really mean

Maybe my perspective is rotten

Lost in hands locked
Tightly coiled around my finger tip
Bent and broken
For something my lips should slip

Round and round
For better or worse feelings lost within
Numb and aching
Surely you won't let this fluorescent light win

Glasses for night
As your mind would fail to grow
Lost in love
And your name I don't even know

Bent, ready to break,
Or just ready to snap
You clean up so well
No one knows your act
But I know your smirk
I've seen your teeth
I've felt the blade

I just never knew
Nothing would change

I dove into him
Broke the surface of your ocean to feel
Ice cold lust
Crashed into your rock hard arms
And slid down your rough terrain
It took me years for my glaciers to reach the lake
To melt into your soft summer waters
To melt beneath your surface.

Your hands
    cleaner
than my
sunday
shirt
and
I've collected
quite a bit
of dirt

Drunk in a DUI checkpoint
And I'm counting
How many drinks I've had
And the hours I've taken
I'm counting breaths
And prose I've written
How many of my own
Words I've bitten
I'm counting how many
Times I've felt this sort
Of hurt
And how many times I've felt as reasonable
Is worse

I'm counting how many stars there are above
And the city of fireflies that I almost wish I'd never heard of

We are thin
Blood drawn in
Give us fate
We will wait

Time will tell
Tell us well
Change for me
Soon you'll see

Locked up dead
We are red

Lately I've been thinking
About all the hairpin
Turns I've gone around
Too quickly
And almost eaten
My own ***
Straight into
A tree

And mostly
I've been thinking
About all the
Ships I've sunk
With tiny
Needle.     point
Holes
Thousands
Of perforated
Perfunctorily placed
Sailor sabotage

All of those ships
resting at the bottom
Of my halfway conscious
Self
Because I'm afraid
Of being the barnacle
Brained woman
That I am
Clinging to the bellies
Of the sinking
Ships I've carefully
Cast into
The depths

And lately I've
Been wondering
Why I've never been so
Lucky as to
Hit one of
Those needle poked turns
As fast as I could

Because your hair smells like incense.
Because your body is just a cage for your mind.
For your spirit.
Because when you are broken, you know you have clay.
Because you think in poetry and pictures.
Because you know just over that mountain there is life.
Because you are you and you know exactly who that is.
You are beautiful.
And don’t let anyone tell you that just because your hair smells like incense…
Don’t let them say you can’t be the beauty over every mountain.
in every tree,
under it’s bark,
overflowing in it’s existence.
You are that beauty.