Description

Some days, I don’t feel entirely human. Just a mix of emotions and echoes; half heart, half hesitation.

I smile when I don’t mean to, say “I’m fine” when I’m not, and keep moving like it’s easy to breathe.

But being almost human means feeling everything too much. Caring when you shouldn’t. Breaking quietly. Healing slowly. Maybe that’s what makes us real; not perfection, but the cracks, the softness, the constant trying.

We’re all a little lost, a little fragile, and somehow, still here. Still human.