As broken as she is, she makes me feel whole.
A natural disaster in and of herself.
I feel at home in her storm.

As hard as the rain falls.
As soft as the sun after a turbulent night.
She'll never see in herself what it is that blinds me to her flaws.

There's a solace in her voice like that of morning snow.
Measurable to Springs rage against Winters will is her frustration.
She longs to be more than she is.
A tempest.