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I watch, but I’m not sure what I’m waiting for. Something. Someone. A feeling. It’s the kind of ache that doesn’t settle anywhere, just floats under your skin, making you itch.
My reflection feels like a stranger who keeps asking for things I can’t give.
It feels like everything is on fire, and I’m the only one who doesn’t want to put it out.
Fame is a fire, and I want to burn with it until there’s nothing left.
