I wanted to give you something more than the pen stroke on paper, more than emotion, something more than the Soft breathe that expelled the words I love you.

So the labor in this mechanism called my brains goes into overdrive. Pumping out words like a chimney releasing smoke. Creating a way to show you my appreciation.

Left with empty lungs from all the times you took my breath away. Weak from the moments you kissed me. Stunned from your everlasting natural beauty. I fail to represent the true meaning of you in my life

Searching for something more. Trying to show you your worth. Knowing your worth more than you can believe. I sit here to realize. These words are misrepresentations of my emotions.

There is no alignment of grammar or sentences to explain what you deserve. stuck. Stuck a single equator away.

I'll show you one day. I'll be able to give you something more. More than you know. Until then, catch my breath with your beautiful butterfly net.

Keep it in a mason jar. Tighten down the lid and watch it as it breathes life.  Keep it for memories of what is and what's to come. This breathe is all I have.  So I give it to you.

We have met once before.
You lined the sky.
Mostly with blue.
Sometimes with pastels.
You threw up clouds.  
Smiled translucent rays.
Exhale fresh of lavender fields.
Let me explore you.
Run through you like a field.
Embracing every grace me with your presence.
Soak into me with your intoxication.
Fill me up from every pour.
Step into this.
Get me lost.
Deep into your winding paths.
Pour out of me.
Spit love off my fingertips.
So I can touch things with true love.
Let me be something.
More than anything I want to be your something.
Filled up and dripping with acceptance.

When you played my heart like a symphony.
Leaving me oblivious to the feeling of mediocre.
The strings sounded so good as your breathe entering the room.
Glowing like a gem through the clear blue waves.
I want to swim in your veins. Just so I can experience complete.
Your delicacy is a floating feather landing on my hand.
Fresh touch of unknown layers of skin.

My life illuminated like a stolen bike when you said you would stay.
Giving me the endless urge to speak butterflies out of love and entanglement. There was a nightlight in the way your eyes obliterated darkness. Giving content a different meaning.
I'll never forget the moment my heart opened. Caught like a grasshopper. But I didn't **** on your hand.

That feeling, you know the one you get when you hear the ice cream truck. Glorious allurement of the belated time it takes for sound to travel. A surplus of magnified feelings. Up me of the moment and return again. I forgot my money at home. Home is where you are.

Let me down again into the season. Lower me softly into existence. The unknown of tomorrow lays down. Now is the it. Leave it with me. It will ring forever. You are forever.

The day of what once was yours and will forever be read with your voice.

"Did you actually kiss her? Get me a diet Pepsi. Or l,the occasional. Don't be a *******." These are the words that resound love through the drywall heart I have here. This is only the second time I have thought About you. On this day. Well this is the second day of you being gone. It's so much easier believing you only leave once a year. Imagining 364 other days of disappearance melts my shins into crayons splattered on ***** carpets. That ***** impossible to get out. I got some new shoes and I would love to show you. They have helped me walk since you left. My knees are doing okay. It's the inners that don't always stand as tall as they should. My spine curves into a mended embroidered heart with broken springs  .... I really love the idea. I am not good with
seeing, but I would love to tell you that home is where the heart is... That your heart is home with me. Because if my heart is found in jack in the boxes, full of energy entwined with extra stitching and barrel rolls stuffed with memories I can't keep in my glove. Then you equipped me with metal braced joints grinding on friction laced sinews, connected with everything I thought was suppose to be true. Home is intentional. Define your existence and discover the purpose of trusting intangible options slanted between us. I trust you. I always have. The reality is that my cylindrical box of chest bones locked in a cage understands  power. Power enough to tie my shoes. I want you to know how  my shoes handle okay without you. I'm here. Writing, about you and that one day. This Mother's Day I want you to realize that you're day will be here. I'll find you in ***** sea water, dropping out of the last day of college, and chasing that perfect woman. You showed me it. Everything. Lets sleep dark concepts and understandably crossed with altered mentalities. The sun, that's where you started, please stay with me here. We will get warm soon. We are on a crooked edge of the universe wondering how to exist. We are here and now. You showed me how to be here. Because without here your love would have never existed. Here is where everything needs to be.

If we keep spilling
our hearts--

often enough,

someone is bound
to mop it up--

I had to watch this boy go from 8-26 with a full man in his chest in less a moments notice, he was so angry from the sudden unwanted growth upon his being. The growth started in his collar bone, spread to his elbows, and exploded through his cupped fist slammed through the dried wall. I have see a lot of anger in my life. I've see small dogs get so angry that we follow them around everyday, their tails that is, that a circle is what makes sense to chase their feeling around the room. The dictionary says there are a few different synonyms for anger, like indignation, rage, and my favorite piqué.... Now this is my favorite word because the definition of pique is to affect with sharp irritation and resentment; especially to the pride. The image this draws across my neurons in the dome of safety behind my eyes ;just  imagine a king standing strong, chest out, flexing his insecurities across his cheeks. These cheeks have seen little girls cry from all the mothers taken away in the daytime hours to feed their needs to be alive, torn hair out of tomorrow because it looked too promising with potential, and a smile with deception lining each tooth. This king was confident in his worth. Then I watched the king wake up from his dream with an anvil on his throat and Grenades in his shoulders, ready to blow on anything with the ***** to step, to only realize he is standing in a group home with bare walls around the meds on the table. The pique sleeping in the beast will stayed subdued, the meds are kicking in. This is the image I imagine, because as I live life with this human machine I have watched the state shuffle his chess pieces into Chinese checkered closets to make it through the weekend. Mondays bring another day of forgetting families that ruined mind sets, but the families still lay on heart strings still playing come home to me. You were not made for this life happening before your eyes, you were made for much more, like changing lives. And you have shape shifted mine. You have shown me what strength is, because I always thought strength was being able to lift the most baggage off hearts broken like glasses in a middle school mix up. I was wrong. Strength is mustering up the courage to step out of bed when the world screams to you no, and your mind is heavier than the world under your tongue that you have yet to tell of. We both know you can change a life, it's just hard with the restraints placed across your ability, I'm sorry. To be honest, I know he is a king with a heart made of palace, bones of gold, and a head made from broken crowns his family has never fixed.  he has directed more life night lights than staff members have told him stop. He will not stop with the directional force of an ocean in his footsteps. I have never told him that he can move mountains with his voice, lift reality with his left arm and a fist with the other to show the power that he believes he can't possess. Buddy, I know they have held you down for so long, and that you despise them for it. I believe with everyday of my ****** heart that one day, you will change the universe. Because with a king like you, there is always a revolution.

Crater deep dimples filling hearts with mirthful spinning pinwheels. The sun rays illuminating the iris full of expectations, stories, lustrous joy, life. The energy shared in space made weak knees crumble. Silhouette causing brainwaves running rampant. The architecture of your shape is staggering. Staggered right through thoughts. Elated fingertips never found a better home. Hair blessing the wind with its presence. Giving flow to nature around. Flow through my life. The orbit already taken place. As simple as the circle I see in your glance. Smile again. Memorizing forms, unique, pictures, keeping them stored in a treasure chest behind my bones.  Completed. Play your algebra once more.  Lets get acquainted. Equal to the wonders of our body. Like the landmarks spread upon your skin like a treasure map. Let me discover you. The entrapment you caused upon my ability to speak is stammering. When did Things become so simple. Beauty slammed through ideas of broken bodies. It's an archive. Your body. Sun kissed and blessed by the noon. The way you illuminate under the vast open everything. I find my eyes fixed upon yours. Lost in the translation of their movements. Closing my eyes to imagine the holographic wonders taking place behind your reality. The turbulence in your chest is ever clear. Beauty isn't a word that I can make sense of. Not when I am presented with you.

I still can't clearly comprehend who my father was. The only way I can find him is by thinking of everything I refuse to be. I still have memories of my father that have never been extremely clear. I guess you could say it's as clear as the muddy glasses I put on every time I want to forget the loss. I lost the man I wanted him to be. A role model, someone to love my mother in every direction you could imagine, I wanted him to be a man. When I think of who you are I can't form solidified answers because to be honest I don't think we've ever met. Name's Jon. We share DNA but this isn't something I take pride in saying. The story maps of our denials are wonderful depictions of why we could never really talk about things. Things we can't fully understand. Like how I would deny things like how bad the weather is, that my tummy is a little to jiggly, or that I honestly can't say no to a good beer. Your denials are slightly different. You have denied leaving two boys for one wonder woman to raise. You still won't tell me you are sorry, because in your eyes it's the world against you and your disposition. You deny eye contact with those around you because we all know your soul is unorthodox and burns if you look into it for too long. You remind me of the inconsiderate ******* who leave their brights on driving down the highway, they leave me ******* and hard to see my future. As I reached deeper into the bucket of something inside me that feels, I realize we have a few similarities. We both don't know hot wot act in public situations. Running has always been our initial response when our hedonic treadmill starts. I don't want to start. So I cut out the pieces of my life that resemble the ***** smell of your presence. I use those moments for encouragement and to find power in the unforgettable.

Giant Pandas can defecate up to 40 times in a day.
Dragons spit fire around 800 degrees Fahrenheit.
And the words that come out of my dental cavity are not always holy.

Although I don't consistently speak truth I often hindsight the difficulties in my speech ability. The ability to speak proper, well, or complete is not always present behind this broken breath. In a desperate attempt to square away my oval thought process I thumb words into a pixelated infinity of memories. Letters typed out across the fog covering lower layers of hazy thoughts. Filling up neurotic gaps with logged cabin pressures. On second thought I would rather not think about it. Not think about the imperfections in our complexities. Why not just paint these walls with compliments and thank you for every breathe that's ever graced my space. I saw you as a star, so I looked up to you and never really told you how god dam beautiful you are. Because I knew my words would cease to paint the sky like you do. Giving hope to children around this world that maybe, just maybe their dreams will grasp with reality. That they are small gifts on this earth wrapped in skin tight wrapping paper that exfoliates excellence. Small bundles of hope giving me reason to smile on days the sun forgets to show its face. You give hope to the frazzled packages that don't have a home to gift on empty holidays. You breathe there is a tomorrow into the yesterday's broken promises. I have never understood much about the constellations, but I think I do know that you are a stand alone constellation that shines brighter than the moon. You lit footsteps for those who don't cope well with darkness and eloquently gave direction to the dizzy, when all they wanted was to hear that they will, be okay. Burn promise into my eye ***** with your persistence presence. I know there will be cloudy days in my head. Days I won't see you above. I know you are there. What I don't know is why the hell I'm still looking into a light that burnt out 1 light year ago. I guess I'm simply here sharing words. I guess I never wanted to to accept that your light is gone.

I know a sailfish can swim up to 68 MPH
And that frost dragons are completely illegal in city limits.
I still don't know if what I'm saying is true or not. So I will free my thoughts for now, this dental cavity needs a cleanse

Metamorphosis
The mimic octopus can make its body look like multiple different sea creatures. When it is threatened it will slide it's tentacles into the formation of a flounder and guide across the ocean floor. Or into a pseudo sea snake. I have always hated toilet snakes. This octopus can mimic about 5 to maybe even 15 different sea creatures.  Now I don't know much about how to change my body and I certainly can't hold my breathe for that long, but I do know the second I'm afraid I change into 34 things that I will never be just to hide in the moment. Giving a ****** expression of std positive on top of an eviction notice of your well being into the outside of your door frame. As I watched this animal take shape across my television screen I made the realization that maybe we are more similar than i want to believe. Because We often change in bedrooms daily. Shedding every moment of our days onto a floor that knows our secrets and won't tell a single reason why there's always an awkward silence when we enter the room. We strip off insecurities that want everything to do with us, peel back our inconsistencies onto the dresser without keeping the change. My dresser has seen every side of me. I'm not all to proud of the things i keep in there. Like socks that have walked over my exes because I didn't cleanse my anger often enough. Or the time I left my sadness in the bottom drawer because I couldn't let you know that my shadow isn't my best friend. Sometimes I think it might be better to follow him around. I have been running around in circles attempting to figure this out. I've dropped math equations into chemistry experiments just hoping for a better answer. When spring came the answer was released with small amounts of heat, a back flip of conversation and a let go of the handshake you held with the past. This is how we learned change. We formed into what we were meant to be. Flawless but full of empty spaces. open to be filled by things like compliments. Or things like patience. I guess it was change that wasn't ready for our presence of purpose. All of this was as clear as octopus ink. We shape shifted into animals. Animals that love each other so hard that everyday on top of every moment they give a piece of themselves away for the better of the whole. We created change into a perfect moment of mutualism. Okay I realize that this a little far out there. But this change molded my knee caps into tentacles, my backbone left me and I folded into an octopus so that we could understand the importance of changing the shape of a person. Shape that you may not see through a telescope but maybe you can see it trough your fingertips when you feel the power behind positive change.

Please forgive me

Hello there, looks like were here again, playing the same instrument, with the same breathe.... Awkward if you think about it considering I have not talked to you in a couple years. I know I wrote the last poem in complete hate, disgust, and well to be honest I really just don't enjoy your existence on the dirt we share. I don't share well with the selfish. But I kind of have some empathy for you. I feel for the unfortunate disposition placed upon your life. Your parents ****** more than a shop vac that was built to **** down unholy spirits. This could be something to learn from because we can't call the ghost busters every time the air gets *****. I want to clear the air between us. What I wanted to tell say to the man who donated ***** to my mother, hung around a few years to long and stained the life of a new white tee shirt, is thank you. Thank you for my showing up to any of my sports events, I know you would have enjoyed them too much. Thank you for never staying in my life more than a year, my eyes can only handle looking at your deflated life for so long. I really want to thank you for leaving when I was 3 years old, not for leaving me and my brother alone, we always had her, thank you sir for dropping my mother like a faulty Walkman with no batteries, she is an iPod with an unparalleled playlist that you never got to hear. Thank you for not listening to the way she loved my brother and I, she spoke soliloquies with a harp in her throat, piano keys for teeth and a heart made out of everything she picked up after you left. So thank you for not being selfish and letting us have her all to ourselves. I'm sorry I have hated you for so long, it just took a while for my eyes to adjust in the dark, then I realized I was in the shade. Thank you for your genes. I can drink like a fish, I'm balding at twenty two, and my second toe is longer than my big toe. Now I'm not complaining one bit, because those are the same genes that gave me this heart that wakes up and feels everyday the earth rotates, the ability to smile from ear to ear painting a canvas full of alright teeth, and last but not least you gave me the genes to forgive you. So thank you Jack Binschus, in my eyes, you are not that bad of a guy. yes, maybe you are selfish, addicted to any substance that will wet your beak, and have tunnel vision in a broken mirror showing nothing but images of you. I will never call you father, or dad, or tell you I love you, but I will tell you that the pallet in my chest that has painted pictures of hate against your everything is clean. I'm over you. We can move on, you can now live in peace not ever knowing that I forgive you.