2025-07-30

 “Never Enough”

We never get enough—

of the sudden hush before the kiss,

the thrum beneath the ribcage,

like a bird that’s found the sky again.

Every time, it feels like spring

rewriting the script for sunlight,

as if hearts forget the last goodbye

and still leap at a stranger’s smile.

We keep falling—

not clumsily, but faithfully,

like stars that never tire

of burning just to be seen.

Love, though it wounds,

is stitched into the seams of hope.

We carry its fragments like lucky coins,

as if this time, the story might stay whole.

Because even in ruins,

we believe—

not in perfection,

but in the bloom after winter,

the warmth in another’s hand.

And maybe that’s the miracle:

we are creatures wired

not for safety,

but for wonder.

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