Im not blind, I cansee it… the way attention follow you like it owe you something.
But I’m wondering, when the room go quiet, when the eyes stop clinging, when the compliments dry up…
who are you?
’Cause beauty loud, it introduce itself quick but substance? that take time to hear.
Can you hold a conversation without your looks finishing your sentences?
Can you touch my mind the same way your body trying to touch my focus?
I’m not knocking what you got
I’m questioning what stay when all that fades out the frame.
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