you're wrong
she is not understanding
she is of gigantic question marks and
she sleeps on a bone-numbing hard mattress of whys
she is in the sweat-breaking comfort of her lover's hold but she never told anyone how she made a commitment with a what ifs two years ago

you're very wrong
she is neither calm or kind
you can't really call a crying hurricane a calm and kind thing
her facade is smiling with a turbulent anger
but never to anyone, only her own
and she never leaves anyone's home without a gentle au revoir
but her room is just an empty, vacant loony bin
you can't really call a ghost a living thing