Midnight knows my heart,
When the last light folds and the city forgets its name,
I spill like smoke through keyholes,
Chasing the ghost of your whisper in neon rain.
The clock drips slow silver,
Every beat a fingerprint on the windowpane;
I trade tomorrow’s silence
For one more echo of footsteps that never came.
Darkness sings in blue frequencies,
Tuning my ribs to the hum of a vanished flame;
If dawn should ask who’s bleeding,
Tell her the night already signed my claim.