Chilling, but with a Hint of Inner Monologue

Singing is your sanctuary. Whether laughing with friends or lost in your own world, you sing. Black is your favorite color. It mirrors you, like night holding space for stars. The night doesn’t dominate the stars, it makes room for them. The way your hand moves to your hair says comfort. Your glow-up was fire, but your realness had hearts melting. Admiration is common, but awe is, 'How can someone be this real?'. You baby your dog like royalty, then gently correct her for misbehaving.

And what I really respect?
You’re so straightforward.
You are the mic drop, incarnate.
Now that’s a rare kind of beautiful.

And as if that weren’t enough…
You speak, yet you listen.
Most never even try.