True.

I want to dissolve. Or I want to disintegrate.
My colors can fade out like the last dramatic scene of a corny movie, while my favorite song rifts softly in the background.
And Morgan Freeman can do a voice over of my last words or something.
My small fame filled flash back before I'm gone, as I turn into the credits that are quickly forgotten.
I want to be the wind. Or I want to be the water.
A blind rage, whispering over the surface of everything. Swallowing it all into my lungs.
All of the earth inside me.
A flowing mass filled with scales and slimes living in something of their own universe.
I can evaporate into the sky and splash back to a completely different continent as the world crys.
To freeze and fall in complex and fascinating grace.  
I want to be a tree.
Always strong, rooted deep into a solid foundation.
Always beautiful, always wise. Carefree but not careless. And I would be old enough and I will have seen enough faces of all the creations to understand the difference between the two.
When it comes down to the honest hour, to admit it all and scream the truths you wouldn't even tell yourself, you realize.
You realize, that you want to be anything but you.
And that is a true sadness.

-B