More Than an Extra

I feel it in the quiet — that echo carved in bone, a hollow that no voice can reach, a weight I bear alone. I wonder if I’m background noise, a shadow on the wall, just watching life like cinema, never getting called. What if love is just a thing I see in others’ eyes? What if I was born to watch, to ache beneath the skies? I don’t want crumbs of pity, don’t want a half-heart kiss — I want a love that burns me clean, a storm I’d never miss. I’d trade it all, the calm, the light, for just one breath that’s true — a soul that looks at mine and says, “I was made for you.” I don’t want less. I won’t take less. It’s all or none at all. And if love won’t come, I’d rather fall than live where shadows crawl. But still, beneath this ache I hold a fire I won’t disguise — the hope that someone sees me, not just passes me by. So if you find me later on, in pages not yet turned, know this heart once broke for love — and still, it deeply yearned.