It was all about order then; But she doesn’t know until when. When did that pull towards love and chaos take over? Or maybe was chaos always the constant? Her world now moved too fast. She missed the shades of each sunset; She no longer felt her toes kissing the earth beneath. It was no more about order; But chaos. It was like being the moon afraid of the vast sky; but loving the way it held the stars. She yearned for peace from all this mayhem. But she didn’t realise that she invited it; Because she was too wild to feel alive when at peace. To be reckless; To consume. To be wild ; To be her. Chaos was its own kind of beautiful.