What Love Does

An extended metaphor about the terrifying vulnerability of love

It fills me up
And turns me transparent
As if I were a water balloon

(I give myself
away)

It presses up against my fragile membrane

So used to fluidic freedom
Now my cellmate inside this self

(If I let it burst out it will leave
only shrapnel and I will die as
I was born: wrinkly and
opaque)

It wobbles me
Trembles me
Makes me difficult to hold in one hand

(If you are too gentle I will fall if you are too forceful I will
pop)

I was built to be broken by it
But I can hold it here
I can

(This time is different)

(It has to be)

(I am different)

(Can you see it?)

(Can you see me?)

(Yes this really is all I am)

(Look at me)

(Look through me)

(Don't throw me, I will break)

(Please)