The Sun Bleeds Gold on My Skin

They say the city is a concrete beast that never sleeps, but at this hour, it breathes like I do.
I stand on this rooftop, letting the orange light strip away my defenses. The wind tugs at my hair—a sharp reminder of everything I’ve tried to push aside. My skin feels warm, almost too honest under the dying sun.

People think silence is empty. They're wrong; it's heavy with all the words we never dared to speak out loud. I watch the skyscrapers reflect a world that moves faster than my heart can keep up with. It’s exhausting being this visible yet feeling so invisible at once.

Then, there was you—a shadow in the doorway before the light hit your eyes. You didn't say anything; you just let me exist in this space without demanding a performance from me. That is why I hate how much it hurts to see you leave now.

Don’t look at me like that, as if my vulnerability is something for you to fix. It isn't. But maybe... just for today, let the warmth of this sunset be enough to hold us both together until tomorrow.

Editor: Hedgehog