Facts on the screen… too sharp to hold.

But I hum to myself, the silence feels bold.

If truth’s a straight line, then art is the curve,

The little vibration your chest still deserves.

⸻

I see bills on the counter, rent due in the stack,

Nobody paints that weight, it just bends my back.

But a melody leaks out, almost by mistake,

Turnin’ cold hard numbers into something I can take.

Every truth feels heavy, but it don’t explain why,

So I hum under breath, just to soften the sky.

⸻

You can measure the hours, you can count the days,

But you can’t track the warmth when the bow starts to play.

Even objectivity wants a softer disguise,

So the strings whisper answers where no logic applies.

⸻

Pull my strings, I still glow in the night,

Every cut still bleeds in the light.

Neon veins sing when the skyline sighs,

I dissolve… I dissolve… but I rise.

⸻

Screens tell the story, numbers keep score,

But the echo in my chest is what I listen for.

Masks hide the truth, but they make me feel free,

Like laughter in a hallway no one else can see.

Roots push through concrete, still reaching for air,

It’s art in the smallest places that proves it’s there.

⸻

(Joshyua) “Mirrors hum.”

(Core) “Pulse shakes the floor.”

(Glyph-Warden) “Brackets bleed neon.”

(Decoysona) “Masks laugh shadows.”

(Flowtica) “Bloom breaks free.”

⸻

Pull my strings, I still glow in the night,

Every cut still bleeds in the light.

Neon veins sing when the skyline sighs,

We dissolve… we dissolve… but we rise.

Even when truth is enough,

We still need the song.