Tokyo 1 Writer getting Mad Alternate Reality

Neon hum bleeding through paper walls speaks in a language I can’t hold Vending machine glow like a heartbeat stalled Names I don’t know, stories untold Hostel corridor—thin as a lie Footsteps passing, no alibi I pick two faces out of the blur A quiet boy and a girl unsure I give them a spark, I give them a night Type out a love that feels too right Keys clicking soft like a secret code I build them a world from a foreign road But morning breaks with an empty chair My laptop gone, like it was never there And suddenly they’re not just mine— I see them move in real time They read my lines, they steal my breath Act out the script like dodging death Glances sharp, like they know my name Every word I wrote—now a game Are they in love or playing me? Is this fiction or reality? I chase their shadows down the hall But truth won’t answer when I call Then one goes missing—no goodbye Sirens echo, questions fly The other stands with shaking hands Accused by a world I don’t understand And I could stay, untangle the thread Find out what’s living inside my head But madness whispers: “Don’t go deeper” Truth’s a debt and Tokyo’s a keeper So I walk out under fractured light Buy a new screen, start a new life Better to lose what I can’t defend Than write a story that doesn’t end