We are human—
built on hope,
drawn to dreams
we may never reach.

Still, we want.
Still, we wait.

Love—
we crave it like breath,
though it breaks us,
burns us,
leaves us aching.

Yet we return,
bare and believing,
longing for arms
that won't let go.

Why?

Because we are human—
and love
is the wound
we keep calling home