midnight streets, wet eyelashes, promises we were never meant to make
and yet we make them anyway.
somewhere between āthis is wrongā
and āi canāt stopā
a truth appears, louder than reason.
maybe weāre not searching for love.
maybe weāre searching for the feeling
of being seen in the dark.
and if it has a price ā
sometimes we pay it with a smile. š¤











