It's odd how everytime I want to drill the world out I turn my music up higher.

I never did fit very well;
Don't ask me why, it's hard to tell.
Actually, that was a lie.
I could explain the reasons why...
But the story's very long
And I tend to go on and on,
Over explaining everything,
The cause and effect each aspect brings.
And so long will my tale get
That you'd probably miss the point of it.
But at the end of the day, all said and done
I wasn't liked by anyone.
Okay, I have a tendency
To speak in hyperboles:
Perhaps a few didn't mind
My presence from time to time.
But overall, in the grand scheme,
I wasn't a favorite amongst the team.
A little strange. A little odd.
Introversion my great flaw.
Or at least I believed
That the problem laid in me.
But only now that I have gone
Have I thought that, maybe, everyone was wrong.

shall i compare thee to a summers day?
i admire shakespeare for being such a yaknow, writer
and i wish i could equate to his flowing of words and make hidden messages between the metaphors
i try my hardest
but amogst the other angsty teens who bleed tears and numbness
it's hard to compare thee to a summers day when thats what everyone is doing
but it's so true
you are the flowers that bloom out of my ribcage after winter has been in my lungs for some time
and you are the sunshine that peaks through to warm my heart
you are the summer rain and wind that makes me flutter like the butterflies in the south
but you are also a human
and sometimes you turn to winter
or spring
or fall
but i love thee til mine death
and theres something poetic about the old english
this modern english makes me feel less of a romantic lover and writer all together
i want to compare thee to cold bedsheets after a sweaty day or the splash of water onto my feet when the ashpalt gets too hot for touch
i want you to be my metaphor for everything
i want it to be simple and complicated and use really big words because im pretentious
but i just want to love you
and as we progress into the robot era
i still sit here writing my love for you
bleeding for you
this is not romeo and juliet
and i never really know what im doing
im actually quite a mess
and this doesnt make sense
but the spark of light for my love of you will never dim to darkness
and i will hold the candle to the heavens as an offering for you to be the eternal light
this is rambling on and on probably
but i love thee
je t'aime
ich liebe dich
i love you
do you compare me to a summer day?
am i colorful like a meadow and soft like a cloud?
am i your greatest living, breathing, loving figuruative language?
or am i another hopeless (hopeful) romantic that is another page in a story that you wont speak of or analyze enough to understand
will you skim me?
i sometimes doubt your knowledge of love for me
i wonder if it's surface love
or if it pulls your heart to your stomach to ache when my touch and laugh is unavailable
i wonder if you mourn at the thought of my pain
and if romeo and juliet is a plausable scenerio
ha ha- joking
i sometimes doubt
but i know thee loves
and im sorry that im like this
but at the same time im not
anyways,
and yes, anyways is a word (at least to me)
(english breaks its own rules all the time)
i shall compare thee to a summers day
and thee shall be loved

Find
Rewind
unwind your spine in the easiest of manners
our machine has cogs as far as they eye can see.
You can't see yourself fitting?
That's no problem,
we can fix that,
unwind and we will rewind
you and your way of mind.

Find
Rewind
Glue together your thoughts and make them a new song
make a new joy out of the sorrow you see.
You have been running from your dreams because your gut
your gut says "leave"
but even so you know you need to go,
rewind to a braver time
and find yourself
pick yourself out of the cog that machine broke you
to be in the shape, form, and spitting image of.

Find
Rewind
You there, you right there
you can come out of your *******
and into ours
you rang your bell when you're crushed to tight
but we don't care too much,
you are our profit, and no the margins do not lie.
Do you remember the last time you even rang that bell?


Find
Rewind
there are memories in that broken shell you claim to fester in
there's something in there.
I can see that little ray of sunshine in there,
come out of the machine that claimed you when you were broken
because "no one else wanted you"
but that machine wanted your
spine
your mind
and you don't want to rewind to the time
you were there,  because now you are comfortable,
But you have to find your way out my dearest friend,
because you are in there.

You offered me your body,
I offered in return:

A tuna fish sandwich,
A nice piece of carnelian,
Maybe a book or two about odd things
like death by electrocution or Leonardo da Vinci
or the history of the upright bass,
Endless records,
Enough jazz to paint the world blue,
My mouth forming the shapes of notes,
A breath from my own lungs,
The scarf which was lovingly knit for me
by my one remaining friend,
Lipstick, bright red and smooth,
Feathers from a hawk that I found by the road,
Dried pink roses from a corsage,
Two baby teeth in a container that once held film,
Hair shorn with a dull kitchen knife,
A collar of cracked burgundy leather,
Sachets smelling faintly of lavender,
A mirror which was cracked on my thirteenth birthday,
One lace glove.

Why did you leave?