Stunted, the same, by
          highs
            and
           lows
           alike.
A jubilant parade inside
           some nights.
Silver linings? Ticking timebombs! Infinite splinters!
No good time left unexploded.
Rusted blood iron and red wine
filling my eyes.
          Tired of feeling "weird."
          Tired of knowing I'm being.

I wish I wanted anything in a way that didn't
                              scare me.
I wish I could love anything in ways that
                            couldn't hurt--
                           --inward or out--

                    I wish...
                    I think...
If I sit on this bench...for a long time,
and keep perfectly still...but make subtle
                    eye contact
          with some of the crows...
they'll accept me as one of them?

                    Teach me to fly
                    Or, at least, hide
                       in plain sight.
        A new vocabulary for my quiet
              when it starts to get mean.

Entangled, alike, by
          lows
          and
          highs,
         the same.
Convenient jailbreak for a Name--
               --Say it.
Chewing paper? Eat the playbook. Shred this formula.
No good night goes unpunished.
Rusted blood in my mouth, and red wine--
crying outside
                    Tired of being fragile
                    Tired of knowing I know.

                   And how 'bout the crows?

                   I'm good for a laugh, they suppose.

A series of numbers in which each is the sum of the two proceeding numbers. This is different than Pascal’s triangle.
The formula is as follows: Fn = Fn-1 + Fn-2, where n >1. It is used to generate a term of the sequence by adding its previous two terms.
Solve the following examples.

1. flowers
    little people in dresses
    dancing in the ballroom
    the world is on fire;
    we bend faster
    when the wind howls
2. hurricanes
    the ocean is quite
    warm
    i let myself
    sink
    the sky rips
    apart
3. pinecones
    in the bed underneath
    a mother
    her children gather
    snow for breakfast
    breakfast in bed
4. spiral galaxies
    the naked eye
    beholds the beauty
    of hands we no longer see
    blinded;
    we are drowning in light

I walked into
An old building
Vacant yet
Lived in

I opened
Door after door
Peering into
New air

I realized
I was searching
For what was
To be

There were
No windows
On the doors
For a reason

I could not peer
Into the future
The past
Was futile

There was
No knowing
Left only to patterns
Or engagement

I could stop
Walking
The corridors
Of this wood abode

One more door
To go
What was next
Solitude or sorrows

As I stood alone
I met the room
With nothing to lose
No compass for death

I suppose it doesn't feel so bad
after all
this is exactly what I always expect
a pattern repeated,
regardless of the reason
it's almost a relief, almost
comfort in the known, the expected
not a new home
just a road trip stop
pulling into a familiar driveway
even if all the lights are off

One simple thought
Igniting a wildfire
One match that turns
A whole world upside down
We can pretend that it's not there
It will burn deeper
Cause it doesn't care
A domino effect
That's hard to stop
It's a blind spot
No way to grasp it,
Change it,
Make it disappear...
The more we fight,
The stronger it'll persevere,
The more alive it is,
Contagious pain
And identification
Will keep on breaking trust
And sending us
Into a black hole
Of intoxication.

I've been watching patterns in nature lately, savoring their beauty.
We are born,
unfolding,
into the world's natural grid,
painting the infinite canvas.

I finally see that we are one and the same in this cycle,
interconnected.
So different,
yet so familiar.

The trees structured like our lungs,
our veins like the vast rivers.
Our hearts pulse,
and so do the shore waves.
I look into the stars swimming in the antimatter,
and they look back at me.
Among them I see your eyes,
like two suns,
radiating warmth onto my soul,
reaching evey corner of my being.

I will never forget the time we had,
how it colored my world's canvas.