flashing lights.

a draining night,
where the moon gets blurred,
and the stars pop out-
shimmering quiet.

a goddamn road with a wet stripe,
cars and tires
making that chirpy noise.
out of all the city shout,
i hear that scratching.

thats what a brain does when its
about to be dead.
giving spotlight to the detailing.
just like in a crowded street,
all i hear is my heartbeat.

i peeked through the window,
saw a woman-
with a trench coat and a red nose.
the stress in her vibe
made me question one or two .

my eyes gone red now,
like i chugged a glass of gin.
but i didnt, i swear.
its just a part of insomnia-
need to drive back home.

i pour out my half-filled cup
from blue tokai.
coffee gets cold,
yet the ceilings sweat warmth.

that woman arrived again,
lit a cigarette between her lips.
maybe tiredness makes strangers familiar.
maybe every worn-out face
starts looking like your own.

the heart started racing,
more than the cars around.
the beams and the streetlights
kept flashing through my vision,
reminding me of every broken silhouette-
i used to protect.

their names still scrape the walls
inside my head at night.
some voices never leave,
they just grow quieter
until a certain kind of rain
brings them back alive.

these lights resembles the doom , once used to be a blessing.