A person wakes to find mysterious marks covering their walls, floor, and skin. No one else seems to notice them. These aren't accidents or vandalism, they're something stranger: graffiti that appears only in the space between sleep and waking, in those moments when the mind hasn't fully returned to the world. As the marks multiply and spread, a question emerges: are they messages, or are they consuming something essential? The film sits in the quiet horror of small, inexplicable things, where the line between internal and external blurs. Drawn from a poem about the casual scratches we make without thinking, this short work transforms that mundane concept into something unsettling and intimate. The animation captures the uncanny feeling of noticing something that shouldn't exist, of questioning your own perception when no one believes you. For viewers drawn to quiet, poetic storytelling and animation that trusts silence and suggestion over explanation, this is cinema that lingers after the screen goes dark.