as quiet as a fire

٢٤

she was art.
not everyone understood her, nor did they all love her. but some people couldn't take their eyes off of her, examining every single detail, admiring the way she was drawn so gracefully.
she was a poem.
a poem who breathes. some didn't care about her fragile words, but most kept reading her over and over again until they could find a way to her heart, where all the rhymes hid in a peaceful yet deafening silence.
she was fire.
dancing in the dark, she kept them alive. yet all she did was burn whatever got in her way, without leaving any evidence that she was guilty. she shone brighter than them all, and refused to be destroyed; she only destroyed.
she was the ocean.
she was full of mysteries no one could ever discover. she had a world inside of her; so beautiful but so dangerous at the same time.
she was the sky.
glowing galaxies exploding inside her dark soul, playing with the stars whose light never faded. a whole different world yet to explore.
she was the nature.
she had flowers growing in her lungs; and even if she couldn't breathe, they were beautiful. butterflies flying in her stomach, leaving her deathless, reckless.