Loved While Full

I was loved

when I was full.

**

When my chest was tight with air

they called it value,

called it importance,

called it power.

**

Hands reached for me then.

Smiles were real.

Rooms made space.

**

They tied my string gently,

afraid I might float away.

**

But air is a fragile crown.

**

It leaks quietly

through days,

through losses,

through moments no one claps for.

**

And when my body softened,

when the shine dulled,

when I could no longer rise above the crowd

they let go.

**

Not with anger.

Not with guilt.

**

They dropped me like something that had finished

its only purpose.

**

I kept smiling.

Because that’s what I was made to do.

**

Cars passed inches from my face.

Shoes avoided me like shame.

No one asked where the air went.

No one asked where they went.

**

Funny thing about love built on air

it never mourns what deflates.

**

I learned this on the street,

wrinkled and light,

still yellow,

still trying to look alive.

**

Power fills you.

Money lifts you.

But when they leave,

so does everyone who mistook your fullness

for your soul.

**

I wasn’t loved for who I was.

**

I was loved

for how much air I could hold.

******

Thank you for reading.

If this piece stayed with you, even for a moment, then the balloon was not alone on the street after all.

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