We are soft things
on a spinning rock,
with hearts too big
for the skin that holds them.

We cry over songs
and laugh in places
we were once broken.
We hold each other like lifelines.
because sometimes,
we are.

Strangers become soulmates
in coffee shop lines,
on sidewalks,
in passing glances that feel like déjà vu.
A shared joke.
A favorite movie.
A song we both scream in the car
with the windows down.
Somehow,
we just get each other.

We create art
from the ache.
Paint galaxies
on bedroom ceilings.
Turn “I miss you”
into music,
and pain
into poetry.

We find beauty
in the ordinary:
sunlight through curtains,
the way someone says our name
softly,
like they mean it.

Yes. there is war.
There is grief.
There is so much we don’t understand.
But there’s also
birthday candles,
random hugs,
midnight walks with friends
who make the silence feel full.

We love so hard
even when we’re scared.
We show up,
even when it hurts.
And when the sky falls,
we rebuild,
together.

So if you ever wonder
what’s still good in this world,
look around:

We’re still laughing.
Still reaching.
Still dancing
in the ruins.
Still human.

And somehow,
that’s enough
to believe in.