Where My Heart Runs

I start with the truth sitting bold in my chest,

the kind that refuses to stay quiet—

you move through my thoughts

like a warm breeze that knows exactly

where I’m fragile

and touches me there anyway.

There’s this pull you have,

gentle yet unstoppable,

a kind of gravity that rearranges

my entire sense of direction.

I catch myself smiling at nothing,

as if the air remembers you

even when you’re far from reach.

Your voice softens the sharp edges of my day,

your laugh tilts the whole world

into something brighter,

and every time I picture your face

my pulse stumbles

like it’s learning how to run again.

Sweet and startling.

It hits me,

this isn’t infatuation or a passing jolt

that fades like old summer light.

This is deeper,

truer,

the kind of feeling that settles in

and chooses to stay.

I don’t chase clarity.

I feel it.

Right there, steady as breath:

you’re the one who turns the ordinary

into something shimmering,

the one who makes my heart trip forward

just to be closer.

And in this quiet confessing,

I realize I don’t just fall,

I lean, I trust,

I open.

You’re the reason my soul feels louder

than doubt.

You’re the reason love feels

beautifully possible.