Love,
Like some kind of open wound,
Becomes me.
Takes hold of me.
Breaks me.
Love,
Like some shallow pool of dirt,
Speaks to me.
Befriends me.
Betrays me.
Love,
Like some sick tale of desperation,
Relies on me.
Trusts in me.
Gives up on me.
Love,
Like the chaos that it is,
Hates me.
Bruises me.
Loves me.