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Dirty sandals after night
You paid for the night. but you weren’t part of it. these heels—scuffed, worn, kissed by the floor of every place you could never enter—are all that’s left for you. the leather, the dirt, the quiet ruin of indulgence. i walked through luxury. you just financed it. you watched me leave, aching. now you get to see what it did to me. not the night itself—just the leftovers. aftermath. and that’s all you’ll ever deserve.
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