She drives through shadows, A face split by headlights— Glass smears her reflection, But she knows the road is empty. Knuckles white on the wheel, Her pulse flickers— One hand steady, The other searching for nowhere. Neon bleeds through the mist, Mocking the silence Of a city that hums softly— A ghost pretending to live. Behind her, The mirror holds nothing— No past, no light, Just the hum of forgotten dreams.