Headspace collision | First Line Defense

Ain’t thinkin’, ain’t feelin’, ain’t breathin’ Ain’t sleepin’, ain’t… Concrete humming under my feet tonight, streetlights blinking like they’re keeping time. Cold wind slipping through my sleeve so tight, your laugh still echoing inside my mind. My pulse is kicking like a restless drum, breath turning foggy in the winter air. Each step snaps sharp until my legs go numb, a wire tightening somewhere under there. I crash straight into all the noise you made, sparks jumping off the edges of my head. Headspace collision spinning in the shade, your echo hitting like a drum instead. Hit—hit the drum until the floorboards shake, hit—hit the drum until the circuits glow. hit—headspace trembling like a fault line break, hit—signal overload in every blow. Neon smearing on the soaked concrete, colors bending where my focus bends. Your voice looping in a glitchy beat, curling around my jaw in broken ends. Heartbeat pounding like a slammed‑in door, shadows twitching on the alley stone. Every sound cuts sharp like glass on floor, driving straight through muscle, blood, and bone. I crash straight into all the noise you made, sparks jumping off the edges of my head. Headspace collision spinning in the shade, your echo hitting like a drum instead. Weightless drifting in the aftershock, streetlights melting into silver lines. Rhythm pulling gently at my jaw’s soft lock, guiding every breath into its signs. Ain’t thinkin’, ain’t feelin’, ain’t breathin’ Ain’t sleepin’, ain’t… I crash straight into all the noise you made, sparks jumping off the edges of my head. Headspace collision spinning in the shade, your echo hitting like a drum instead. Headspace collision—drum to the chest, every beat landing where the nerves protest.