he was the kind of boy who you had be on guard for.
you never knew what he would say, or if he would smile or cry or flinch or leave.
he was a turbulence that she had once craved.
she had dreamed of a boy so open, everyone had a piece of him.
& now it was staring her in the face and she was sick with confusion.
the waves swallowed her up, the fury leaving nothing behind.
it's not like she tried to fight it either.
if he was a poison she'd drink it every night before shutting her eyes for sleep.
if he was a storm she'd whether it every day.
if he was a fire she'd let herself be consumed by the flames, her spirit riding on the ashy smoke that billowed up into the sky.
if he was paint, she'd be any color he wanted.
and that scared her so much her fingers were shaken with violent tremors whenever he was near.
