Month: January 2019

Clarity is frosted glass,
You can see the imprint of what’s in front of you
But it’s distorted.
Incoherent.
Is it even really there?
I see what my brain preserves is on the other side,

But what if my brain is wrong?
Seeing what it wants to see.
Seeing what I fear to see.
Seeing myself alone,
No one there to support me,
No one there to comfort me,

Just me and my glass,
That’s useless.
It’s frosted over,
The same way my heart is.

Maybe this is it,
Clarity is something I can’t obtain.
Something so essential, yet so foreign.

Do you see what I see through that frosted glass?
Do you see your family in tears, waving goodbye?
Do you see yourself alone?

---

James Bowie High School

11

It’s hard to put all the memories into paper.
There just aren’t enough words in the world.
All of them together
could not describe
how beautiful it used to be
to feel completely destroyed,
and yet,
to be more alive then ever.

There just aren’t enough words in the world
to describe the way you made me feel,
or to express how much I loved you.

Language isn’t enough
to take the images and rip them apart
into something beautiful
so you can be able to see them.

Words are the limit.

And I’m sure I can tell you
that there isn’t enough time either,
to sing everything out loud
or to do it all over again.

It’s just impossible.

So it tears me into pieces
knowing that what happened happened,
and it will only live inside me,
as a memory.
Hunting me,
because nobody will ever know,
and nobody will ever understand
how it is that this thing inside of me
has the power to slowly
slowly
slowly
burn out my little human soul.

---

James Bowie High School

11

As I stare outside
cars passing
rain slowly falling outside the window
I tune back into the world

It’s a little after seven
I was young
uninformed of global current events
which lead me to believe that NPR
was an entire radio station
created to torture kids of my age
while on long car trips.
It was then that I began to pay attention
to my mother
who was currently showering me in praise
as she haphazardly
pulled into the parking lot of my elementary school.
Slick with the remnants of the previous night’s rain.
Brycen, Mrs. Champion tells me
that you’re an incredible student,
kind, attentive, and cute too.
She says as she reaches over to put her hand on my face.
Being a young boy at risk
of being seen with his mother by his fellow classmates
I was quick to dismiss her affection.
God Mom, I get it! Can I go now!
She stared at me
Her face blank
used to this sort of reaction by now
waiting a few seconds before responding.
You know,
you’re gonna talk that way to the wrong person one of these days
and get your butt beat
I hear her
unaware of the incredible amount of leniency
I have been given

---

James Bowie High School

12

A red dress,
Unconfined in the wind’s grasp.
Whipping like ocean waves,
Hugging her torso.

A runaway,
Atop a mountain cliff,
Abandoned.

Lost souls,
Grotesque and decaying,
Wear red.

A vibrant cry for help,
Craving attention.
Princes with white horses,
Never come.

A damsel in distress,
Her mind floods with misconception,
No savior in sight.

The bold statements,
Like a false smile,
Conceal broken minds.

---

James Bowie High School

11

All eyes on you
All eyes on you
The girl with the curly black hair sitting all alone
She’s the one with the attitude.
The girl who’s always never talking but the one
Who deep inside she has a voice.
When I look at her, I see a leader — someone that
Can speak her mind.
But sees all the discrimination in these hallways
The girl with the curly black hair
The girl that everyone looks at but never talks to
Her pride is inspirational the way she walk with her smirk.

---

LBJ High School

10

The teddy bear
soft with brown fur,
frowning with sadness,
as his beady glass eyes,
staring at me,

Asking:
“Why haven’t you played with me?
Why don’t we talk?”

To be honest I forgot
about him just like I forgot
the stuffed elephant
the Giraffe and even the monkey.

But the bear-
he was special,
He was there everyday
for every year,
when I was crying,
when I was bored,
when I needed a friend.

Until he wasn’t.

Then I had a new companion
Not a friend.
Not someone I love.
But is required to be with me.
My future requires him.
My happiness later
in life depends on him.

It has many layers,
homework, teachers,
peer pressure and bullying,
stress and anxiety.
It is so much
I almost hate it.

But it brings me no joy,
not like the teddy bear-
who slumps down,
worn apart by age,
frizzing at the end
of his feet, fading
under the shadow
of my past.

As its little ear is holding on
by the threads,
so is everything
in my life,
coming apart
every day I age.

---

James Bowie High School

12

She didn’t even notice your eyes.
I thought maybe she’d outgrown your face.

It was the first thing I noticed.
I remember asking her once
if they had filled the room as much as it felt they did.
If they had grabbed her too
by the coat and demanded their independence from the lousy rendition of brown.
The honey highlights had beaten me senseless.
Belittled and torn, my knees gave way.
And as I lay and beg for more,
you conceal your weapon.
And look away.

and she laughed
her eyes lacking the intensity of yours
And replied that they resembled a pot of the
darkest, blandest, and most bitter coffee.

I thought about your eyes after that.

---

James Bowie High School

11

How does your heart steadily beat,
under the weight of all of that guilt?
How do you rest against cotton and silk,
as savagery continues to stir in the night?

I watch in disbelief
when you dance upon the raw and bloody flesh
of those who remain lame.

Do you recognize those blind yellow eyes
that gaze up at you beneath your mirror?
How about those ashen, oozing lesions
that dapple the arms reaching for your silver, your gold?

As you bathe in your oils of gladness,
captives continue to rot and spoil.
You are not above the lost,
simply because you are found.
You are not greater than the sick,
solely because you are healed.

Beneath your jewels and your spirits
lingers a pink and fleshy body,
still drenched in that slime and shame.

---

James Bowie High School

12

Everyone came to Dianna’s party.
Silly Riley and Comedian John and Funny Silvia,
they all came. Even reclusive Will, introvert Sharlene,
and I knew that missing this party would be

social
suicide.

The lights are too bright and flashy-I can’t see-
Was this my cup?- It feels so sticky and sweaty-

Why is

the sound

of the

bass so

damn loud?

Everyone- every-one
is packed into the apartment
like sardines in a can.

Too small a space
Too many people
I can’t-
Breathe-

I manage to find a door throw it open

Breathe.

Sorry silence of a sweet night.
You offer me no comfort.
I look back through
the blue-hued window

But the image is blurry–the glass is murky
Dark and foggy, like a cemetery-
a headstone for all, death be merry
Eyes stare back, fishy eyes
And everyone becomes every
body,
All too quickly.

---

James Bowie High School

12