Electric Silence Between Two Heartbeats

The city is a cold machine, grinding us into dust with its neon rhythm and concrete indifference. But here you are—my personal kind of chaos in an oversized denim jacket that smells like rain and old bookstores.
I’m clapping my hands not because I’m happy, but to keep them from reaching out and pulling you into a depth where neither of us can breathe. There is something dangerous about the way you look at me—as if I am the only living thing in this digital wasteland. It's an impulse so feverish it borders on heresy.
We are two strangers playing house under a dying sun, pretending that our touch isn’t written in blood and destiny. Every smile is a lie; every silence between us is a scream for something we aren't allowed to name yet.
I want to run away with you—not to a beach or a village, but into the very heart of this urban fire until we both burn up together. You are my most beautiful mistake, and I am ready to be ruined by your warmth.

Editor: The Escape Plan