City hums. Clocks bite. Neon, no soul. Breathe plastic. Clinical pulse. Pavements slick. I run in place. Black trainers. Siren on my back. Empty pockets. Shop windows stare. Laugh, smoke. Cut the corner. No destination. Only escape. World shoves. Needle waits. Run from Monday. Run from me. Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a future. You preach it. The screen sells it. The bank bills it. I run. Treadmill never ends. Red carpet. Dry mouth. Light goes under. Narrow coffin. Fish-eye world. Music distant. The floor swallows. Soft promises. Liquid hush. Curtain drops. Buried awake. The void claps. Choose a washing machine. Choose the telly. Choose junk dinners. Manual for living. Pay in instalments. Glossy smiles. Like, like, like. Heart off-beat. Empty cot. Ceiling sags. Skin goes cold. Nameless shadows. Night spins. Hands shaking. Furniture mutters. Guilt screams. The door breathes. Mind in cages. I want out. No handle. Choose plastic mates. Choose routine. Choose boredom. Feed swallows me. Endless scroll. Lukewarm coffee. Meeting, no pulse. I want it off. Zip-bag. Quiet hotel. Mute mirror. First train, grey light. Dozy faces. Scar and notes. Not a hero. Just survival. Leave the noise. Street opens. I promise something. Who am I lying to? Choose life. Choose the future. Choose to be you. I choose to breathe. I choose to stop. I choose to look. If it all burns, I walk anyway. Choose life. Cut to black.
