Sucker for hurt

I love harder than I hate, and I hate that I love so easily. I pour myself into hearts that may not hold me back, stretching wide, even when the edges contract and I spill over. I chase warmth through my doubt, finding light in places I really should not, yet I cannot help it. To love this fiercely is to bleed quietly, to feel the weight of every glance, every smile, every silence, every word that I read too deeply. And still, I dive deep again, because the fire of feeling is worth the burn, even when it leaves scars and bruises, I’ll forever carry.