The pacing’s racing. I’m chasing my
shadow’s tracing.
I dash. I crash. Go out on the lash,
camera’s flash.
I blurt. I flirt. Wear see-through shirts
and tiny skirts.
I’m fine. I shine. Show off what’s mine.
No need for sleep – I don’t feel weak.

I sip, flip, punch someone’s lip;
dark bruises on their cheek.

I scream;
believing sights
not seen.
Terror found
in unknown faces.
Sounds too loud
echoed
in open spaces.
Intense colours
show an evil side.
I’m fighting
for my right
to stay alive.