Save The Bees (Sting Me)

I want to save the beesThose buzzing specs of insignificant works of breath are more human than I will ever beLoyalty resides in their instinctLike-mindedness is nurtured with butting antennaDetermination is the settlement of every flightTheir selfless little bodies eradicate mistake every time our cruel skin sends them to deathTheir fragile self-destruct buttons are within a constant frantic second of being pushedWhether it's others harsh touch or by an overwhelming circumstance of responsibility Sound familiar?The worlds beauty is going to eat you, me, and them alive somedaySwallow us whole and watch the traces of young love get dug up and buried again in the springThey'll give, we'll takeThe cycle moves on and no one is thankedI can't help but be rooted in this worldSo deep that I can't think to wrench my head up to look at the nextYour shiny constellations elude every word I try to wrap into a bowArticulate and limpid, your responses to my cacophony of emotion, are perfectly wrapped giftsI can't help but tear into the moment your light passes through themThoughts continue to flicker in and out of silence from me to youYou, brilliant glaring skyYou, naked skinned kneesYou, subdued hue of utmost importanceYou continue to follow me off falling cliffsYou meet me at the bottom and scrub my dirty spots pureYou hold me together when I'm withering with the weedsI cannot touch those who come to hold meNot for any measurable amount of lost timeThey come to rip the bark off my trunk of fearAbsentmindedly and barking with fear  themselvesThey come to wish on doubled numbers thinking my height will lead them to the sky I was not planted for the intent of falling in love with the clouds or falling apart in the windI've grown to be so entangled with forgetting feeling and rotting lips that I refused to utter anything substantialMy veins have become so ingrained in the foundation of others that I've started draining worlds just to drink myself aliveI'm used to setting myself on fire for metaphors like timeAlways procuring split lips and rusted finger tips to caress you withGroveling on gravel sidewalks that collect drunken spit and passed out promisesI'm used to hitting my self destruct butting and not coming anywhere near honeyed graceBut now, because if your god damn bees, I no longer need to burn myself to encompass a flameI am strong-rooted, passion-punched, and in love with ridiculous practicality The seeds in my head will never know the definition of finite engulfmentWhen I have spread my roots to the tips of the universeWhen there is nothing left for me to dig myself up intoI will build a nest in my chest for you to find a home inBecause the sweetness of your honeycombed existence keeps keeps me from going extinct 

This poem is about: 
My community


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