Stand tall! I know we’ve had our moments. Sparks did fly, we’ve both faced uncertain times. I have loved you since the day I found ya.
Do better communicating your openness. Am I encouraged to hear you breathe all breathy-like? Will I feel supported tying a hammock between your branches? Are you going to fall at the first sound of the lumberjack’s wheel pulling up? Will I be able to distinguish tears from rain falling?
I hope I can reach you. I want to treat you. I want to measure your ring finger and get a ring sized to fit.
I just want to hear back, do your crickets still chirp? Do flowers grow around your trunk? Birds fly around me too. That’s called something we share, a commonality.

I’m thinking we ought to paint initials for NOT ME in you! A forest full of timbers reading N.M. will maybe suit the urges in me to shine like the sun arching it’s back over us. I want to protect you. I don’t want to fret over bull. I think I have enough matches to light all these other agitators/ alligators chomping, on fire.
This is called poetry in a story. It’s actually OUR love story. I’ll shade ya from all harmful UV rays, for days. I’ll pave the road for these other half-assed jokes.

They’ll say I’m barking up the wrong tree. I hate to break it to ya and lash ya with branches but I can’t sit down either. You see how big my chest is? I hoped that would have impressed ya. I guess I gotta go deeper in this ‘ish to find the roots of their distaste for nature taking place. Two minnows in the prime of their lives SHOULD find each other!
Giant Oaks, bruised emotions, censored puffery. Get the chainsaw, take over half of my heart, go ahead you heartless ax murderers. You make all of us oxygen- providing limbs hide our good sides. No love for the soil hurts. All my life I’ve dreamt of being saved of a tender-loving, communicating breeze. I want my leaves blowing. Baby tree making/ eloping ought to wait til we are at least unafraid to stay by each other’s side and sway in and out of each other’s dreams.
Our lives can and will start anew every spring morning. We will fall back constantly. I’ll cover your legs and pinky toes from the cool night’s graveness. Just tell me you love me, dawg. Scribe it in my bark.

Lawyers getting involved will ruin everything so I’ll keep them to the side. I’m trying not to hide bro, find me!
F#CK deez scrunchies you be flinging at me trying to concentrate on how to ip address you. I said no thanks to the cats offering me cell time. Get on with your photosynthesis! I need that energy and love to complete this singular revolution around the sun! Did I tiptoe around their sensetivities enough to catch a full bloom? Will your low-hanging fruit nourish me so much I don’t need to worry? Will they chop me up to build the coffin I’ll eventually lie in?
One day, I pray I find you clearing the way and explaining to me how we could work in the same place without buzzards circling us. How’s that sound?

I spike the fertilizer with T, L and C daily. “A mad scientist” would look good on my resume. I’ll spell it out for these inch worms, show’em how it’s done and in the end come through, better,

– kylekeech