It’s just you and the room breathing back.

No audience. No rules. Outside.

You dance alone. Between Craziness and complete Silence. Half-awake, half-gone.

Pretending it’s a party and knowing it’s not.

Or maybe it is. The light flickers, thoughts blur, bodies soften.

That drift where thoughts smear, where you don’t know if you’re falling asleep or slipping into something darker. Almost a nightmare. Almost a dream.

Whatever – still yours. Where you drift, you slip, you let go – and for a moment, you’re completely yours. Soft chaos. Standing under streetlights. Laying on the cold ground.

Moving because sleep won’t come, staying still because it almost does.

Thoughts blur. Time slips.