City inside

A city in me — concrete and pulse,
I’m building myself as I move.
Let them remember the silence
when I stop running from myself.

Inside — a blueprint, no map, no name,
towers of “someday,” sparks in my veins.
Down streets of “I can,” I walk barefoot,
dreams aren’t shoes — they’re skin, burned to truth.

A city in me — concrete and pulse,
I’m building myself as I move.
Let them remember the silence
when I stop running from myself.
I jumped off the edge of my “later” plans,
the ocean turned honest — cold in my hands.
Water in my lungs, I cough up night,
but every stroke is a yes to my life.

Fear walks beside me, a tethered dog,
I sit it at my feet, let it soften, not claw.
I look in its eyes — the thunder breaks:
it learns for the first time, here no one strikes.


https://t.me/blagovmusic/85


A city in me — concrete and pulse,
I’m building myself as I move.
Let them remember the silence
when I stop running from myself.