The Temperature of Your Shadow
The city is a parasite, feeding on my solitude with its neon
Hedgehog
Static in the Neon Pulse
The city screams in neon, a constant barrage of noise that I
The Temperature of Concrete Petals
The city breathes in exhaust and exhales indifference. I walk through these
The Geometry of A Lingering Heartbeat
Stop looking at me like I'm some fragile porcelain doll
The Only Warmth Left in This Concrete Cage
The city is a parasite. It feeds on my time, drinks my
The Melting Point of Silence
The salt air bites at my skin, a sharp reminder that the
A Spectrum of Solitude in Neon Dust
They look at me and see a splash of color—a deliberate
The Sun Bleeds Gold on My Skin
They say the city is a concrete beast that never sleeps, but
The Geometry of Softness and Thorns
The sun is being far too honest today. It bleeds through the
Neon Rain, Glass Heart
I hate the rain. It is messy, inconvenient, and smells like wet
Saltwater Cure for Concrete Hearts
Tokyo is a machine designed to grind people into gray dust. I
The Fragile Geometry of Us
I hate how the sunlight exposes everything—the dust in the air,
