Loving you was like loving storms. You could be beautiful, calming even. But in the morning, the mess you would leave was astounding, shocking everyone who had easily fallen asleep at the sound of your manipulative voice.

You were a pretty face and a smooth talker. You blew kisses for fun and batted your eyelashes like a schoolgirl. You were the sun and I was drawn to your light. You were destruction, and in my brainwashed state of mind, I wanted you to destroy me.

I had given you everything you had ever asked for. I had fallen and crashed onto your every little word, clinging to your side like the shadow you never wanted. I had glued myself to the center of your palm, giving you my vulnerability and consent to crush everything I once was, and would someday be. I gave you my secrets, and in return, you gave me your fists. You gave me your cigarettes. You gave me your drunken slurs and your meaningless whispers of admiration. You gave me your wandering hands and your sneer smirk.

You spoon fed me your lies about the world, in hopes that I would cower away in fear, straight into your extended arms. I've pondered the memory of us often, specifically the way you would talk to me when we first met. The way you would hold me like a fragile child that would break at even the slightest touch. I had clung to that memory for so long, I had forgotten the fact that that was no longer you.

Now, you didn't care if you hugged me too tightly. You didn't care whether your words were too blunt or too sincere. You were a mastermind at making me feel less than you. You were my undoing, and you will continue to be that for years to come.

But I no longer feed off of your approval. I no longer need you to play hero.

You are a storm, you destroy everyone who crosses paths with you, and I no longer fall asleep to the noise.