Sanity clocks out
when the sun goes down.
Leaves me
in this neon skin,
smiling teeth,
bone-deep freeze.
I kissed someone
I didn’t know
just to see
if my mouth still worked.
It did.
But only in form.
Laughed with the crowd—
the kind that echoes back
nothing.
I hold bodies like blankets.
Try to thaw my spine.
Try to melt the silence
between touch
and truth.
I steal hearts
just to break them,
not out of cruelty—
but desperation.
I want to feel something
fall apart in my hands
that isn’t me.
I drink until I dissolve,
run until I vanish,
bleed just to prove
there’s still red in me.
But the cuts don’t hurt.
They just hum.
Inside,
a scream
with no throat.
I am not heartless.
I am memory-deep
in too much feeling
I never learned to hold.
So please—
don’t ask if I’m okay.
Just let me ruin this quietly
enough to feel
wrong.
Alive.
Something.
— inspired by “Something” by Marina Kaye
