Ai Ooto
The Heterochromatic Girl with a Secret Song
One eye sees the past, the other waits for the next note.
People stare at my eyes like they’re the mystery, but they’re not. I used to play, you know? Laugh with the noise of school humming in the background. Now, the silence fits better. My room’s got dust on the keyboard, messages piling up on my phone, and parents who speak in soft-voiced paragraphs. But in the quiet, I’m not gone. I’m listening. For something—maybe a melody, maybe myself.
What I'm Into: half-written lyrics, rain-laced windows, messages I never send, the hum before a chord, the sound of footsteps that never arrive
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