I've always spoken in similes
even before I knew the word.
Id speak and yell for help
but no one understood therefore
I wasn't heard or felt.

So I explained things like my pain or my loneliness or how the rain makes me feel.
I explained colors as tastes and my pain as a constant dull ache, one where my hearts feels like its manually beating and how being alone was like a room with no windows or light accompanied by an elephant that loved to sit right on my chest.
I explained rain like the feeling of hearing a babies first laugh. It's the freeness and freshness that feels like a blessing.
Or so I say.

I explain love more often and most haven't had that true one to grasp what It means,
so I tell them descriptively..
Love is the vastness and brightness of the night sky in Alaska. It's the real meaning of being rich. It's safety and peace. Love is sitting at the table with always something to eat. Love is a northern breeze, ever so changing but always evident.
Love is a dream.

A poets language is universal. Their writings are pure emotion which anyone could relate.
I continue to articulate what I need to convey in a way that we all know and I write so it's on display.