It takes more than just words, more than just endless apologize to reason with my nature. These hands have held more things dear to me than you and honey don't think for a second I'm not special. These universes inside these lines painted me a picture a long time ago of the person I would hope to be and the sails are setting in the bay again and I am the windstorm they are getting ready for. I am no last place or home base. I do not fight to win or lose to show pity. I do what's best for myself. These eyes have seen death slowly creep it's way into the picture frame one day, four years at a time. They have seen what it's like to remember blank pages of your history somehow finally filled. The ending to this novel that is me is complicated and messy already and I wish you knew what it felt like. How the wind beneath my feet felt more like a hurricane than a boost from the ground I kept weeping on. How these tears fueled these fingers to write for days on end and how things just don't seem to feel good enough for me anymore. I am a garden constantly trying to water myself with the nutrients I need but somehow never seeing any growth. These hands have made mistakes and these eyes have seen better days but all in all I am a force of nature that will turn your world upside down and put it right back where it came from. I am the *** of gold at the end of the rainbow, but I am also the storm that got it there in the first place.