In My Head

It feels like the whole city has turned off the lights, and all that's left is the pulse, breathing, and the sound of rain running somewhere beneath the skin. First, small talk, then silence, and then suddenly - a current running through your legs, a tremor in your chest, and you can't tell if it's love or just the heat inside. The rhythm hums in your veins like the subway at three in the morning when the car is empty and you still haven't reached where you were going. And it becomes clear: sometimes getting lost is the only way to feel anything at all.