She is madness, and sanity. She is hell, and paradise. She is delightfully chaotic, a beautiful mess. She is kind of like an ocean, wild and untameable yet strangely calming to watch. She always has that about her, that look of otherness, of eyes that see things much too far, and of thoughts that wander off the edge of the world. She lives the poetry she cannot write. She feels in italics and lives in capitals. She is a mess of gorgeous chaos, and you can see it in her eyes. Loving her is a splendid adventure.