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.