It feels like holding a heart made of glass.
Is it mine, or is it yours?

You once told me I complete your songs. And you still complete my sentences.
You told me your heart skipped a beat. And you dream along with me.
You asked me to draw with the wind. And you think I’m a star.

What do I wish for?
I wish to feel like this forever.
Define “this”. I can’t. Feels like an anomia.
But I… I am breathing only for this.

So… it does feel like holding a heart made of glass.
And I am following it.
I know it will lead me to you.

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