The amp bleeds low in a halo of hum, Streetlight flickers — sick and numb. Cold coffee cup, chipped lip, split seam, Two still bodies in a house gone lean. Floorboards creak in a cracked-back tone, Dust in the ducts, dead dial tone. I saw the fault in the salt of your breath, Felt the drift shift slow toward death. So let the engine end — let the headlights rot, Steel cools slow in the dark we wrought. We bled out thin where the air wore thin — Some things don’t break, they cave within. Take the keys. Take the blame unnamed. No spark left — just the wire we frayed. In the hollow roar of what we were, I shut the door — no blur, no slur. Jacket on the hook — a crooked silhouette, Perfume in the room — sweet rot, regret. We read between lines, fine-print lies, Spoke in shrugs and tired replies. I heard the warning tighten in your throat, Felt the fault lines splinter in each note. Called it space, called it strain, Watched love rust in the windowpane. So let the engine end — let the headlights rot, No saints here in the wreck we wrought. We burned too bright, then starved within — Some wars don’t start, they rot within. Take the road. Take the truth unframed. No venom left, no one to name. In the hollow roar of what we were, I shut the door — no blur, no slur.
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