The Crowd

They say I’m free here

But I can’t feel my shape

Bodies bloom and break like waves

Hands up like hymns,

faces lost to strobe Their eyes glide past me like fog through

glass

And the beat forgets my name (Do they see you?)

(They never did) Every color melts in synthetic light And I dissolve

into the algorithm of motion (You’re not alone) (You

are alone)

The crowd swallowed me whole,

and it tasted like ember glow I screamed

in the break, but the silence was louder I reached for the

stars on someone else’s wrist But they slipped—

(They slipped) —and I

vanished into this

Flesh without weight Voice without resonance

I danced like a flicker

Then burned

into black

The bass thumps like a second heart

But not for me—it’s for the swarm

A million faces stitched to fog

And I’m the seam that splits apart

(Where are you?) (Right here) Every step’s a static prayer To gods

who never learned my shape

(I want out) (I

want in)

The crowd swallowed me whole,

without even tasting I faded mid-verse in a song with no name I

touched the

dark, and it kissed me back And I knew— (I knew) —I

was the lack

I traded my name for rhythm

I traded my face for smoke I never asked to be free

I just wanted control of

my own fade

The crowd swallowed me

whole, and I let it Like a ghost learning to haunt itself

Not lost, not found—but chosen A silhouette in a

world of flashing light

(Still here) (Still dark) (Still me)