Rules Written in Shadow

I learned the city by its bruises,

by doors that closed without sound,

by men who vanished mid-sentence

and streets that remembered everything.

I stole what hunger asked for,

never what greed demanded.

Never twice from the same place—

even shadows grow suspicious.

Some crimes wear suits.

Some cages don’t have locks.

And some men walk away

knowing mercy costs more than bullets.

They call me a criminal.

Maybe I am.

But I never stole my own name,

and I never sold my soul for silence.