My veins burn with insecurity.
A solitude redlight escapes its confusion, building is the tension between a facade and a catalyst, searing a crescendo to a crooked smile.
I’m a shadow of the person I used to be, running to the beat of an awkward drum in a fragile state, hoping I wouldn’t wake up.
But the lonely position of neutral haunts my blood pressure, bringing the gleam in her oval eyes to a standstill.
Nothing more terrifying than falling in love, tightening my chest in knots is a panic attack on Halloween, which costume she wore was nothing at all. She asked me for a phone number, but I forgot my name. It was the best conversation I’ve ever had.