I think I expect more from myself than I will get.
Limit is not a word in my vocabulary,
but it probably should be.
There is a point where it is okay to say “I can’t,”
but I always push past it,
working myself into a blackhole.
Sometimes I feel exhausted.
More than exhausted.
Sometimes I feel like I have been kissed by a dementor.
Sometimes I let all of this out,
but most of the time,
I keep it inside,
like a tornado in a bottle.
I am the personification of a human natural disaster.
High pressures, chances of precipitation, and lots of wind.
I am the only person that can save me from myself.

But you,
you are the light reflecting off a puddle of rain.
The kind of beauty that can only be born from a storm.
And you are a lifeboat.
You are the person that says, “you jump, I jump”
and means it.
You don’t believe I need saving.

I say I am a hurricane,
and you say “yes, you are the eye.”
You tell me I am the serene center amidst all the chaos,
and that I am your tether.
I tell you that you are my rainbow,
and you smile.
Because what better pair is there,
than the comforting calm before the storm,
and the clear sky afterwards,
that tells the world everything will work itself out.