She is made up of unwritten poems, and unsent letters.

Silence was her confidant although her heart was screaming and her thoughts were tempests.
Thunder was music to her hears; and the strong gushing winds lulled her to sleep.
Unconquerable; afraid to be vulnerable.
She is made up of layers of high walls and unraveled facades.

She carries pain like a paper-back book and knew tragedy like home.
She's loquacious but her silence means more than the words she ever said;
Feeling everything and saying nothing;
Saying nothing and meaning everything.

She saw more sunsets than sunrise;
but sees sunshine in both just the same.

She held roses by its thorns and saw stars die as blackholes;
but still carries a light like a supernova that outshines the entire galaxy