One day, I want to wake up and tell the sun that everything I have seen will not affect the blood that coaxes it’s way through my aching body. I want to tell the gray clouds that cover my perceptions that I have created my own colors out of the dark clouds, also that the rain won't fog up my lenses the way the steam does when it rises from the teapot that I seem to linger over on a cold morning. I want to tell the birds to sing to me, to sing the songs my body can't reach, but so desperately try to conquer. I want to tell the sunset to stay just a tad longer so I can write a poem next to the setting sun. I want to tell the wind that blows through my body right after the sun sets that I'm letting my bad vices go and I want the wind to take them with it, but to not let them kiss any ones forehead goodnight, for I never wish for anyone to feel the fear I have felt, the pain I have watched, and the words that slipped in my ears every night, screaming the words of imperfections. I want to tell auburn sky that it’s okay to sometimes be away from the purple hue that hugs the horizon right before the night sky rolls in because one day, even on the stormiest nights, they will find a way to meet up again. I want to tell the moon to kiss my great aunt goodnight for me, for she is the biggest and brightest star that forever glistens even when the sun is shining. I want to tell myself that even though everything  has blown down my bridges and set my city on fire that the world is created to be destroyed and I just have to pick myself up again when life sets my mind on fire and when watches it burn to smithereens.