I'll always be the nurterer and the comforter, the seat at the table that little humans call mom and the others lean on.

I'll never trade those words for anything different.

But I know I'll always have a secret pocket of things I feel inside, that don't fit out here in life.

I'll always be a dreamer of colorful and impossible things.
I'll be a lover of many people, spreading myself so thin that I come close to the edge of that cliff over and over in this lifetime.

I want to have that vague taste of desperation under my tongue, forever.
I want to write about my heart feeling broken, about how a strangers kiss changed my entire life, about grief and all those little things that give joy.

I want to feel summer rain on my skin and not be able to think about anything but that sensation for moment upon moment.

I want to get goosebumps when he leans in too close and have all the scenarios of how he will kiss me to go through my head.

I want to cry when I see a mother lose their child. I want to feel my insides being torn out and then having to live without it.

I want to taste something sour and then go back for more, because the feeling inside my mouth and against my cheeks feels a little bit like being alive.

I'll never let these things go.
I keep them organized and quiet in the back of my head and the middle of my body so that everyday I'm reminded that the human I am is so much bigger inside.

Inside this body is an incredible amount of the biggest things you could ever think of, and I carry it well.