There is something horrifying
about the night when everything
that comes in sight starts becoming
translucent faces
and every sound you hear
sends more decibels than usual

The sharp rhythmic beats of the traffic lights
echo in my ears
and penetrates my pores
crawling under my skin
sending tremors to my brain
The noise peels off my flesh
and strips me out of my bones
reducing me to the bare marrows
that are paler than ghosts

I shiver in my naked cover because
it leaves me wondering who
the traffic lights are serving
It is as if they should be heard
by the living but they aren't
and they shouldn't be heard by me
but they are

The therapists working across
the streets in the daytime
and their clients packed in the waiting room
with each of them a thought
that they cannot control
Just the idea of it passes electricity
through my veins into my heart
Therapy session makes me want to
jump out of my skin just as much as
the traffic lights do
because it is as if I have to doubt
if I'm unable to function properly
but I'm not
and I'm not entirely broken
but I am