To Be Wrapped Around The No-Good-For-You Finger
You are the wind to me.
You are the gentlest, most energizing breeze that morphs into a deadly tornado. Even when I do not see you, I feel every possible emotion in the depths of my body. The thought of you guides my every day, picking up the feelings I had presumed to be anchored and whirling them into a furious mess. You show up unannounced in too many places, knowing how capable you are of stirring up a situation. I welcome the disarray, although I know so very well how destructive you are and how dangerous you have become. I feel weak on a blustery day, but you are my favorite zephyr.
You are the fire in me.
You are a hint of light in the shadows, igniting into a blaze that consumes my vision and turns my surroundings into a grey blur. I fear you, for you have the power to turn me cold and dark, then warm and light, then back into this unknown smoke that makes defining myself nearly impossible. You burn up my confidence and make me question why the flame is so beautiful to watch, when I know it will soon disappear. You are a perfect mix of calm and disaster, and I cannot walk away. You are the definition of a forest fire, charring whomever is in your path, but you are my favorite spark.
You are not my earth.
You may knock me off my path and blacken my tenderness, but you will neither define me nor control me. You may be a beautiful storm of confusion and belonging, lies and honesty, wind and fire – but you are not my world. I am guarded and prepared for the side effects of your plight, so rest assured I will emerge from this storm stronger, smarter, happier. You toss and scorch so many leaves, but I am the stone that will survive, unscathed and grounded through it all. I am my own earth, and you are just another element passing through.