Neon bleeds across wet pavement
subway breaths beneath my shoes
I catch your laugh in passing engines
but it fades before I choose
Billboards flash like second chances
static warmth I can’t hold tight
Urban pulse electric skin
beating loud but thin as glass
I move with crowds yet walk within
a silence built to last
no grand design just streetlight grace
and echoes dressed as sound
in this maze of steel and faces
you’re the missing frequency I found
Coffee steam curls in alley windows
a saxophone coughs down below
I count the lights that don’t flicker
wonder which ones you still know
Every turn feels almost right
like you’re waiting one block more
Urban pulse electric skin
glowing through the midnight haze
I chase the hum but not the din
through endless concrete maze
no rescue call just taxi trails
and rain that won’t erase
in this maze of steel and faces
you’re the static in my breathing space
I stood outside your old address
watched laundry spin behind glass
the city roared its usual blessing
but this time—it let me pass
Urban pulse electric skin
flickering like hope gone dim
still I walk though night grows thin
with ghosts beneath each rim
is this living or just noise?
a loop without a name?
in this maze of steel and faces
will your voice return—or stay the same?