To The Shimmering Stars

They expected a flame,
She was a wildfire they were unprepared for.
You called her crazy because you could not handle her. But there was nothing wrong with her, only you.
A mosaic of broken glass,
A beautiful work of art to some, a danger to others.
She was cold as ice and would leave you longing for the burn, the passion, and the pain.
She was not flawed, she was herself... You simply could not handle her gleaming smile, her power, her voice, her independence, and her peace. She wore her scars proudly, and you shook in fear.