glass
he tells me he loves me and i want to shatter into pieces
what is love? one shard asks is it love? another asks it must be! a third piece says did we want this?, says the quietest part
she loves me and i feel myself shatter at the edges
this is love, my parts say in dissonant voices do we still want love?, says the quietest part yes, i answer, but not like this
they loved me and i shattered into pieces but i shall reassemble myself anyway missing the pieces each one took with them but whole nonetheless