I am a balloon.
You…you are the small kid with her barefeet buried in the ground.
You fill me up. Not with hot air, but with your love and care.
It fills me up to the point where I am flying off the ground, head stuck in the clouds, and I take you with me.
Your feet dangle as you and I stay connected as we float.

You make me feel like a balloon because even when the heavy ground of doubt, hurt and insults buries your feet, I want to left you up off that ground.

Let your feet dangle as I help you achieve everything you want and more.
I won’t stop until we reach what you want to do.

I, the balloon, love the small girl.

And don’t worry about me popping because I won’t.
Unless it’s a question, and I hope the answer will be yes.