I wish that I had the words, but I just don't. Maybe they'll come to me one day in a dream, or in some passerby's eyes on the street. Maybe one day.
I wish I had the words.

My mind is ever changing. Growing. I am a work of art in progress. My canvas stands 5'7, and I have yet to fill her up with all that is out there. She is learning, and I am learning with her. There is so much that is left to be done. To see. To feel. Discover. I used to be afraid of change. Now, I embrace it with open arms and a warm hug. No matter how scary the ride, or how daunting the waves - I am ready and I am willing.

Come what may.

You feed me lies like cake. They are synthetically sweet but I still can't get enough. Vanilla dreams, laced with black licorice demons. You tell me that you love me, but I can see the chocolate frosting at the corners of your mouth. This is it. I'm too full. This will be my last bite.
My last bite -
until I ask for another piece of cake.

I'm on another planet. Acid trip. Alice in Wonderland. Elevated. I bleed 100 different colors, in 100 different time zones. A million and one dimensions. I'm higher than you.
Cloud 11.
My mind thinks things from the future. Alien. I have conversations with the galaxies in my sleep. The things I'm feeling are not my own. They come from other lifetimes. I'm higher than you.
Here - take this.

It's the middle of the night. I've had my things packed for weeks, just in case I decided to go through with it. While everyone else is sleeping, I'm plotting my escape. My revenge? Only time will tell. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know why. But I've been getting letters for weeks on end from another place. Another dimension. They're telling me it's time to come home.

Some days, I like my coffee black. When my insides feel dark and I want to ******* own bitterness on my tongue. Other days, I like my coffee a little sweeter; vanilla and cinnamon, and hope. When life doesn't feel so hard, and my soul isn't at war with itself. Those are good, but they are not my favorite. The best way to have my coffee? With your sleepy voice in the morning, and a few teaspoons of the way you call me baby.