LA FAMA

Fame smells sweet, but it burns like an iron left on silk. At first, it seems like just a spark of attention, a couple of flashes, a few more likes and light. Then you can't tell where the stage ends and the heart begins. All eyes, all applause are like food for the beast, which demands more and more. And yet, it was thot that love and fame could coexist, sharing the same blanket. It turned out, no. Fame doesn't tolerate neighbors, especially those who truly love. She has her own rules: she pets your head when you smile at the camera, and bites when you turn away. She makes you forget who came before her, and then she leaves without saying goodbye, leaving an echo and a dry throat. With every chord, it's like talking to an ex you're still drawn to, knowing it will hurt again.