"akuma"

the city lights bleed into the asphalt, a neon halo around every drop of rain. it’s 3 am, or maybe 4; time blurs when the night finally settles in your bones. you remember a face, a whisper, a silent promise made under flickering streetlights.

some shadows never truly fade. they cling, a ghost limb you almost think you can still feel. sometimes, the dark just fits.

filed under: the devil in the details.