She is a girl. Broken. Scarred.

She comes to you with a heartbeat as erratic as a suicide bomber.

She is that beautiful tornado racing to engulf you.

She is a girl. Beaten. Weathered.

She is that whisping hurricane of sunlight and rain.

Pride and disdain.

The source of your pain.

She is a girl. Dangerous. Unstoppable.

She will hold you in her arms as she tries to lead you down to the cellar of real love.

She will fail because she is not woman enough to know what it consists of.

She is a girl. Bound. Helpless.

Her lips will secrete the sweetest taste of acid rain that is slick enough to be innocent,

But not pure enough to heal.

Her heartbeats like earthquakes as she juggles your fate in the palm of her ever-imploding heart.

She is a girl. Bewildered. Eroded.

Her puffy rosy eyes being the broken levies that will flood your soul with a tsunami of salty sorrows.

She is a girl. Broken. Scarred.

So when she comes to you as torn and scorne as you feel,

You better love her like true love on Judgement Day,

Because she is your

Beautiful Disaster.