Love

Love is not a hunger in the body,

But a fire in the soul—

Something I crave—deep in my bones,

A pulse beneath everything.

I hear it first in music:

The secret gateway to my soul.

It slips into me through headphones,

Blue shells over my ears,

Where every note becomes

A doorway.

Without it, I’m in an empty room.

I see it in photography:

The light breaking open a moment,

A fragile second

Held forever.

The shutter blinks,

And I am reminded—

Basking in the thrill of capturing the perfect shot,

Beauty does not stay,

So I must catch it as it passes.

I feel it in love itself:

A current that lifts and carries,

A flame no storm can smother.

When it fails,

It was never fire at all,

Only smoke.

Pure, unshakable spectacle.

I know it in presence:

The act of standing beside someone

When the world has turned away.

I have known the ache of reaching

For a hand that never came.

It burns, raw and unrelenting.

Now I vow to be that hand,

The one that steadies,

The one that stays.

And above all,

I return to God, to family—

The roots beneath my steps,

The sky over my head.

Without them, I am nothing at all.

They are my first love,

I am simply the creation,

put together by their will,

and as long as it stays burning

inside them and me,

It will never be forgotten again.

Because love isn’t simply,

just something you find in people—

It’s something found in you,

Something that you create

Deep within your soul,

That manifests into what you are now.

Love is you.

And as long as your will

is standing strong,

Love will never fade.

For Love is you,

and you are Loved.