Love

Love is a very strange beast--it hurts it causes happiness, it causes craziness. Why does it change its face and shape so frequently. It started as a soft beautiful rose then moved into a double edged blade slicing through me until I was a shred of the being I once was. Now it is a tourniquet cutting off my ability to breathe. I try to reassure that I am here with no intention of running but the more I reassure it lets up only to tighten up. No matter what I say or do it becomes more difficult to breathe. I cannot continue this dangerous dance but how do I turn it back to the rose soft and warm. My love is true and honest-- the only way I know how to be THIS IS WHO I AM.