i look at her and i see salvation. but perhaps i should pay closer attention to the tremors that shake her fingertips or the way she locks up her words in her stomach like hot magma in a dormant volcano and maybe i should be wary of the day she erupts /she is cleverly disguised brokenness/
she is a tornado in the way that she demolishes everything in her path, and i am the storm chaser who would give up everything to stand in the eye of the storm or to witness her desolation even for just a second longer /she is enticing danger/
she is an earthquake in the way she shakes the ground when she walks, when she speaks, when she looks at me. she is the earthquake but she is synonymously the earth left shattered in her wake because she is cracked in all the important places, constantly trembling under her own weight /she is self destruction/
she is a flash flood, she can wipe everything you knew away in the span of a few short seconds and afterwards you will thank her. the next morning you'll wake up to a world damp with rain water but renewed and reborn. she always seems to sense the exact moment when it is time to restart /she is new beginnings/
she is a thunderstorm, screaming and flashing blinding light until you cannot help but close your eyes only out of fear you will go blind. and in the split second you blink she'll disappear. she never found it hard to come and go, and she never gave more than she was willing to lose because every time she vanished she left behind the pieces of herself past lovers had shared /she is one foot out the door/
she is a natural disaster, tsunamis and hurricanes and broken hearts /she is beauty amidst destruction/
