It's Tough to Have a Crush

It devours me. It starts with the air I breathe inside that filters through my lungs and heart and pumps through my veins. It tears at me and I cannot see it through my skin; it does not bruise but I feel it like a malicious paper airplane flying so that his sharp edges slice through every soft tissue. My eyes water. It starts with a sun shower and then drizzle and I do not recognize the warning. I ignore the wailing and thunder and think about the smell of salt instead of the icy droplets forcing my insides out and suddenly I am a row boat in a hurricane.