Those who do not hurt do not love.
My heart wants to hold more than comfort.
It is greedy; hungry.
Emotion fills its seams
And snaps its stitches.
To love is to miss someone as they stand beside you.
The memory of pain not yet experienced
And the fear of separation.
But life begins with a separation
From mother to first wail
And I hurt again and again
Each time I return and leave home.