comparing you of such two separate things,
seemed to leave an everlasting crazed effect on my mind.
you left me searching for days,
ink contained within this pen
spilling in the depths of my mind
all for the simplest of creative comparison
to emerge from my chest.
Not to leave me with this deep regret
splurging from my spine.
hoping to have these words come across the tongue
like the images stuck behind my lips.
hoping the words I mutter before you
align to the fullest of my reoccurring thoughts:
It is mythed out to be,
that the silliest of all things named the bumble bee
is a gift well given.
The sweetest provided taste
mixed deep within your tea.
A sweeter taste,
Not known to man.
How hard the bee works,
all for the tea you drink day by day,
is there a thought in your mind
wondering when will it fade?
Comparing events with your actions,
Easier than that batter of the eye
Comparing yourself to your actions,
No words will ever be able to sum up the emotions
that you’ve spilled inside of me and left the mess.
Here are some words  may regret:
Sometimes upon listening to the bird out near the window,
I would seem to of heard your voice between their calls
That soon turned into their dearest of songs.
The bird in my opinion,
Which is never recognized by the wise
Seems to be one of the loveliest creatures,
I ever did see.
Unappreciated by some,
Noticed by next to none.
The way they come and go,
No warning just sudden betrayal by the ones paying notice,
Keeps me in wonder of why a return at all ever surfaces through their mind.
Much like you to me,
Why a sudden go
Shorts out all the matter,
Leaving the return you present me with,
All that’s on my mind.  
I say this because I heard by a few,
How lovely the birds sound in a spring’s earliest day.
I compare you to the birds because after a while,
we pay next to none of a care,
the beauty of the returnal,
and the saddens that should fill us in their betrayal.

I wonder,
do you still try and file
every particle of skin
left under your nails
from the nights we spent alone
Listening to the subtle tune
or the bands we once flavored
alongside at an absolute.
I wonder,
Do you still try and dig in the dirt?
The dirt that grows outside the window
I'd sometimes sneak through on those late summer nights.
(Do my footprints still remain?)
Do your hopes remain focused
on the act of dirtying the smell
of the daisies,
I had pressed in my hair
To a far a place
where all thoughts of me
will become the remains.
The daisies you dug through
with the skin under your nails
Hopefully leaving the faint smell
Of the flowers that use to lay in my hair
under your nails
alone in your mind,
a constant reminder,
of my ongoing memory.
(I did exist)
Or are you planting the stems
You've plucked right from me.
From the underside of you nails
planting them in the ground
In hope of a sprout to appear
of a new "daisy girl"
Or are you simply trying
To mask the thought of me
From coming to anything,
Anything less than a halt?
Is the nostalgia,
really keeping you up from your thoughts?

Melted into the ground
I am already known by,
From the cracks in the masks
I am constantly shown by.
All thoughts;
concealed in the corpse of the trees.
Cloaked by the realms of normality, running through the soil
of which I've grown by.
But here I lay,
thinking of a Mid-Alaskan day.
trapped by the fears of the ignorance
adjoined by the contour belief,
that you and I; shall never be.
This soil is never leaving,
from the undersides of my feet.
the idea,
that the mud on my shoes
may not wear paper thin.
Track in layers,
of the secrets within.
Here I lay
Hopefully not to stay
But having let myself in the know,
of the place I've made
(all on my own.)

Thoughts of you will always remain.
Buried deep; merely insane.
You'll hide under my skin,
covering lies I hold deep within.
Next to the scar
you left when you sent me away.
Every promise,
I've kept away.
Memorizing every line,
here is where they will keep
and every word will stay.
Not like your words.
They've turned too obscure.
Your mumbles turn into slurs,
Hoping I wouldn't notice,
You really do love her.
But only is three could only love you this much
Do me a favor; don't reply.
Keep me In-between
the spaces you've punctured your skin.
I'll keep you in both,
punctured and pure.
Every part of me,
Seeping with thoughts of her.
(Don't say you were never alarmed)
Too bad seasons change
and like the birds
you migrate away
day by day.
And also alike to the birds,
Your return every spring
brings me nothing as it seems.
You're just a bore;
a ***** with nothing to do.
I only but wish,
of your presence
never to be inside my head again.
But let's face it,
It never truly ends.

long thin nails breaking free from shape at every scab brains arrange

your lips are crooked in a mouth full of lies
you are trying to get out of something that just can't you  deny.

liquify throats and swallow them into you,
it still won't stop the scream
for the truth of what you do.

trees cut down taking away all but stump,
paved roads covering nothing less than lungs.

drain down the water from every
kitchen sink,
still never will you submerge every word that ever reached.

narrowing through veins leaving oxygen levels plummeting.

moon's story of the light from the sun,
dimming before any eyes can adjust.

marrow spread within clinging to the undesirable,
keeping bones apart.

joints independent
with commands let by without an answer
leaving me with motionless moves.

I am the ocean deep and blue, kissing the shoreline, and that is you. There is nothing more beautiful than the way you send me away
With every kiss I'm here to stay
(Don't send me away)
I am the sun boiling alive deep within, loving the moon (that is you)
You're waning away.
(Don't leave me)
I said, "I'd die for you once but not ever again"
funny how my story started to bend.
Every night I died only for to rise to her side.
Blinded by your different phases,
surely this cycle will come to its end.
I prayed your promises would never come to their end.
Then the tides washed you away, deep in your own lust.
Where were my eyes?
I heard by some never fall in love with a boy who craves girls who smell enough like the salt water to drown in.
Those are the types who follow the stench of death at every turn and smoke cigarettes to die.
Love the boys that follow the stench of your beautiful soul.
(You are beautiful)
Then ones that enjoy the flowers in your hair and your oversized jeans.
I am an earthquake and this is your skin, quivering and shaking im leaving you in your death.