We are broken people. We are such chaotically, incredibly broken people. Rust carries worn out words through our veins. Our ears ring with the sounds of oceans and insincerity. We are two disasters; a hurricane and a volcanic eruption. Each of our worlds are so vastly different and complex. We are the daughter of Apollo and the son of Hephaestus. We are each woven with chaos and destruction, yet also with compassion and peace. Fiery empathy line our arms and intense wrath lays within our bones. We break everyone in our paths, but mainly ourselves. We have yet to break each other, though. It seemed when we collided, when each of your exploding pieces met my rain drenched ones, time stopped. Everything fit. For a moment, each of us did something right. Instead of destroying, we created. We created something so ridiculously beautiful.