and I think I finally understand what Beauty is. It’s her. She’s beautiful. She is that flower in a storm that survived its wrath and kept growing. Blooming. Strong enough to withstand mother nature and all its pain. Standing out against the rest. Standing out to me. That tiny sliver of hope that keeps your heart beating. Some people see beauty in possessions, poetry, art, like it’s physical. But it’s not. It’s a feeling. She calms the demons inside of me and makes me view the world differently when I'm around her. Colours look brighter. Time starts moving.
