>>213669730
I don’t dream anymore. Not about love, not about the way her hand might’ve fit in mine if I’d played my cards different. Those reels stopped rolling the day hope got shot in the alley behind my ribs. Now it’s just static, faces half-lit by streetlamps, laughter echoing off wet pavement, but never close enough to touch. The city still sells romance in neon, but I’ve learned better. I keep my head down, my heart padlocked, and my nights empty. It’s easier than remembering what it felt like to believe.