She said people were seasons,
and when I first met her, I couldn't agree more.  
After getting to know her, I wished that I didn't.
Her ex-lovers were Winter, and her eyes were a shade of Spring.
I could see the vulnerability of a car crash
swimming in each fountain trapped behind her emeralds.
She was beautiful in the way that could cause suicides,
and fix spider-webbed windshields after each collision of,
“Are you okay,” and, “I’m fine; I promise.”

Every story was Winter, and she was always left alone in the snow.
Mauve lips mouthed words that silently whispered,
"When is this too much? When are you going to leave?"

People are patterns,
and all she knew was the tessellation of temporary love and permanent loss.
Her hands trembled as she looked down.
She was in transit; moving after each hope of home fell apart.
And I wanted to kiss her like the world was falling apart.

Big deals
They come
One time only
And she made them
Like she made cookies
From scratch on New Years
Eve for me and her father who
Took them out of the oven before
They were done and I watched
Her smile falter when he
Entered her bedroom
But I tried to make
It reappear when
It was just us
Again.

That was the way she made big deals.

Of course
There is a story behind why I have
This tendency not to trust
Brown eyed people
If you could ever call it a story
Because it's just this idea
*That every single person who
has ever killed me has had these
******* bright eyes that are green
or blue or this strange silver color
that captures my attention
and you should know by now
that I am attracted to destruction.

You used to be my favorite love metaphor.
The way your tears were never rain,
                                          just another note
     in the song you called your life.
The way your eyes were never emeralds or diamonds,
                                just another word you couldn't write
                           without it finding your soul.
The way your hands were not carved from gold,
                 just boulders that you kept trying to place
                            on my waist
                                    in hopes they wouldn't hurt me.
The way you smiled was never really fake,
                         just something you knew you
                  had to keep so that everyone else could
    smile with you one day.
The way your hair was not really messy,
                      just another thing to deal with
               in the morning before you came to see me.
The way you were never my heroine,
                       just the small thing
                that still crosses my mind every day
      maybe every hour.
The way you told me that I was someone beautiful,
                when in reality I'm just a professional
                      mirror holder upper.
You used to be my perfect love metaphor.
                                      You were the only one I could conjure up.
                  Nowadays
                        
    You seem like my perfect metaphor to match my level of destruction.

I fell in love with a hurricane
Jessie Rowe, you asked me for metaphors
To explain the love of my life
And here you go.
My Anna was, is, always will be, my hurricane.
She entered with flashing red
Warning lights
And she blinded me.
Did you hear that?
She ******* blinded me.
I still can't see around the red
And when I told her that she blinded me
She had no clue.
She asked me what I meant.
As if I could explain.
I told her of my love of rain
And she was a down pour on me.
I felt her touch my skin
Like I did that day I cried
When he left and I couldn't help
But stand and watch him leave.
She soaked me in whatever
She was
And then gave me nothing to dry with.
I was alright with that.
It was only a slight thunderstorm
And part of me was wishing for more.

I shouldn't have tried to get closer.

No one warned me that she was a hurricane.
They just let me *****
Blindly I might add
Into the storm as they ran
Past me in the opposite direction.
How was I to know?
All I saw was her
And all I felt was her
So why should I have left with them?

Maybe I should have.

She told me that I was deeper
Into her than anyone
Had ever wanted to be before
And she told me that she didn't
Understand why.
I couldn't come up with an answer.
She was rain and lightning and wind
And I was in love at the first flash
Of thunder as it
Came over me and into my bones,
Breaking apart the constellations
Between them.
I fell in love with the way
She couldn't stand being
Destruction and strong
And with the way she cloaked me
In everything she was.
I fell in love with a ******* hurricane.
With the rain
And the wind
and the way she kissed
And the way she fell in love with me as well.
I fell in love with a girl
Who was my devil and my angel
In the same moment.

The eye of storm was supposed to clear
And beautiful in a different
Way than she already was.
And I yearned to see it.
But ****, she wouldn't let me.
She thrashed against all of my forces
And struck me with lightning made
Of her lies and then
She was gone.
My hurricane disappeared.

People always talk about
Rebuilding a city
That has been struck by too many
Girls and boys who tend to be
Associated with tropical storms.
I watched as they rebuilt
From my Anna
And the storm she was.
Many people cried.
Many people ignored her leaving
And they went about their lives.
Me?
I miss the rain.
And the wind that was her.
I miss my hurricane.

But the damage she caused me
Has me bleeding out too quickly
So I might not be around
When another hurricane arises.

It's you.
You.
It's always been you.
From the very beginning
All the way back to when we were little kids without a clue.
Running aroud the school yard in our uniforms.
It started as a cute little kid crush
Then we grew and feelings did too.
Middle school came and you made my heart skip beats when you looked at me in the hallways.
Then I was really sad cause you went onto highschool and we grew apart and I thought
owell it wasn't meant to be
But here we are again all these years later and somehow we've found each other again
And as I look back through old yearbooks and I find your pictures circled or with hearts around them I realize it's always been
You
No matter what no matter how I always ******* come back to you because it's you.
It's always ******* been you.
You...

you see, there is this girl, you see
she isn't like a girl in a painting of new york city
where her face is blurred in because
the painter didn't know who she really was
and her hands aren't shaking every time
she puts metal up to her lips
out of fear of rejection
you see this girl
with so much passion and lust
but never love
and you wonder where you have seen her before
because you just know that you have
she is just too familiar to you

and you just have to wonder
why exactly
her green eyes show you
this other girl who you know you've
seen somewhere before
and she just happens to be you
and all you are seeing in this
girl is you and
all you are seeing in this moment
is you and
all you are ever seeing is
you and
all you'll ever know is you
and
you are the reason her eyes
only show reflections.