Master of Disaster

A Reflection by Letters from Xhale

Master of Disaster

I’ve become an expert at explaining myself—

my wounds, my ways, my storms,

and everything life has taught me about love.

I’ve told you who I am

to such a degree that loving me

can almost feel like studying a warning label.

I’ve explained what I need,

how I speak,

how I love,

and all the ways my heart tries to be understood.

Not because I want to make love complicated,

but because I know myself.

I am the master of disaster—

not because I want to destroy what loves me,

but because sometimes my storms arrive

before I know how to stop them.

So if you choose me,

don’t just love the calm parts.

Love me when I’m difficult to understand.

Love me when my walls go up.

Love me when I’m fighting battles

I don’t always know how to explain.

I’m not asking you to save me.

I’m asking you to know

that loving me means learning my weather.

And if you love me deeply enough,

maybe you won’t run when the storm comes.

Maybe you’ll stay long enough

to see that beneath all this chaos,

there is someone who simply wants

to be loved without having to become

someone else first. poem here.