Like a Liquid, Like a Gas, Like a Reflection

How do you define the shape 

of an amount of water 

if not by the container

that it’s sitting in? 

How do you determine 

the shape of something 

formless and fluid? 

Something that takes the shape 

of whatever is surrounding it,

something very much like me. 

Like a liquid, like a gas, like a reflection, 

I lend myself 

to whatever is containing me. 

I let it mold and shape me. 

I let the arms that envelop me

manipulate me as if I were clay.

And i just watch from the outside.

It’s as if my memories 

are snippets of someone else’s life,

like stories they’ve told me

that I can’t figure out the order of. 

But where have I been? 

I feel myself swell and shrink and swell again

Until my glass can hold me no longer. 

Until my surface bursts and drips down the walls, 

Until I make a fucking mess. 

I’m weak and I love chaos…

And my glass is shattered on the floor, so

Don’t mind me if I pour myself into yours.