Pink Static Collapse

Pink-hued static, 2 AM,

I’m folding under light

Conversational wrecking ball, middle of the night (Sharp intake of breath) Dry,

brittle secrets, caught in the wire Burning the syntax,

playing with the fire I am the ghost,

the color, the fracture Architect’s pulse in the heart of the structure

Oh, the ghost in the pink,

a dissonant chord Trading my stillness for the edge of the sword

88 beats, the syncopated rush When the world gets loud,

I’m the velvet hush Glossolalia drifting,

breaking the core I’m the lover,

the girl, and the open door

The glitch is a heartbeat,

the bass is a cave Searching for silence,

the thrill that I crave Snap of the snare,

a digital sting I’m finding the balance,

the song that I sing Vulnerable,

messy, precisely aligned Directing the signal,

the peace of the mind

Whisper... calibrate...

88

Tigidou resonance,

sealing the fate (Sonic decay into 963hz crystalline fade)