Her smile is like the reflection of the sun in cold water on a hot summers day. Her gaze is like a fiery hearth keeping you warm through a long winters night. Her freckles are like the stars in the vast night sky. Her soul is the last cookie in the cookie jar, anticipating to be eaten. Her laugh is like a gentle breeze after a rough storm. Her hands are like the waters slowly eroding away at mountains. Her hair is the shape-shifting clouds, taking which ever form it desires. Her cheecks are like rolling hills of a grassy plain. Her anger is the crack of lightning and the heat of plasma. Her disappointment is the crashing waves againist the ocean shore. Her heart, a the brick under the stonemasons chisel. Her stonemasons are the people who have hurt her and left her broken and lost with nothing but broken promises, but she is the reflection of the sun. The mountain that rises through the clouds, the rolling hills through a grass plains, she is the crack of lightning and the heat of plasma. She is broken and lost. Unsure and confused, hesitant but giving, kind but without reason, unforgiving but grateful. Smart but too smart. She cares, but too much. She loves, and when she does, she does with all her heart, with all her soul. So you should never expect more than she can give you. Never be away from her without missing her, never hurt without an apology afterwards. Never push away, never give up on her.