The Scene Freezes

Jan 25

Originally published in Anti-Heroin Chic (February 2026)

I hear my own footsteps
and it feels wrong
to make noise.

A wheel squeals
and every face turns
at the same time.

My throat feels full
and I haven’t eaten.

I pass three women
held in a doorway
and something in the scene freezes.

I don’t know what to do
with my hands.

I don’t know what to do
with my eyes.

Everything is still here—
but it tastes like
the aftermath.

Breana Kruithoff, MS

Writer. Poet. Sociologist.
Writing at the intersection of systems, psyche, and everyday life.

The Red Insistance