she was fire and rain. she sounded like confidence and smelled like virtue. she flirted with the truth and persecuted lies. she danced awkwardly and laughed too loudly, and was loved for it. she was the kind of girl that screamed what she wanted and whispered what she needed. she listened to top 40 and indie and classic rock, anything with lyrics that filled her with warmth like butterflies. she wore black leather jackets and dark red lipstick to show people the walls around her heart instead of telling them about it. she tore through books faster than lightning because words are the only way she’s learned to deal with anything. she swallowed her pain like pills and handed out pieces of her love like fliers. she loved sunsets and their pink and orange clouds, and how nature always gave us a beautiful ending to every day. she was wildflowers and bubbling springs when she loved, but teeth and flashing red moons when on her bad side. she liked to think that people were everything good and everything bad, and that she herself was some beautifully cruel mystery.