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Verse1
I did a juice cleanse the week you went cold
Felt holy, felt haunted, felt thirty-three years old
Kept waiting for hunger but all I felt was rage
Posted poems about birds while I rotted offstage

Lit sage in the kitchen, wore pearls in the bath
Pretended that healing could change what we had
Went dancing on rooftops, then puked in the sink,
then stared in the mirror and tried not to think.

Pre-chorus1
They’ll say I was crazy, dramatic, obsessed
But they didn’t see what you did in that text

Chorus1:
I would’ve stayed through the plot twists and power cuts
Learned your silence, memorized your worst months
Now I sleep like a crime scene, replaying the call
Where you almost said “love you,” then said nothing at all

You said, “Don’t write about me”—I already did
In lipstick and blood and the back of my ribs
You were never safe, but you felt like home
And I’d still pick the lock if I thought you were alone

Verse2
He said, “Don’t cry,” as he pulled off my shirt
And I laughed like that wasn’t the worst part
He said, “You like it when I ruin things”
I said, “Only because you started with me.”

I knew it was bad when I liked how you lie
How your mouth made disasters sound holy and high
You said I romanticize pain till it purrs
I said, “You keep calling it love like it’s yours”

Prechorus2
You said I’m intense—like it wasn’t projection
Like I didn’t watch you detonate every connection

Bridge
You said you were broken, so I stayed and I sewed
You said you were scared, so I softened my glow
We were talking about movies, then death, then dreams
Then you said, “I think love just isn’t for me”

You told me I’m bright, then dimmed all the lights
Called me your mirror, then shattered the rights
Said I was heaven, then sent me to hell
And I still wrote it sweet just so you’d wish me well

Carved out your echo in bathroom tile
Kept praying you’d miss me, then smiled for a while
Still set all the clocks to your birthday at three,
Then swallowed a wish I forgot was for me.

CHORUS (FINAL)
I would’ve stayed through the fallout and frostbite
Sat through your silence like that made it right
Now I sleep like a witness, replaying the call
Where you almost said “love you,” then said nothing at all

You said, “Don’t write about me”—but look what you did
You live in the margins, the bloodstream, the script
You were never safe, but you felt like home
And I’d still pick the lock
Even knowing you're gone

Outro
I did a juice cleanse
And you never came back.
I never got better,
but I glow like I have.
This poem is the sound of someone falling apart politely. A juice cleanse of the soul that left me faint and feral. For the ones who rot in silence, smile on stage, and call it recovery. I wanted to be clean. I ended up empty.
A splintered moon shatters in my eye,
its fragments sinking into the marrow.
Beneath, the earth cracks open,
teeth gnawing at roots that had no names.

My breath is smoke,
dissolving in a throat too old to speak.
Flesh crumbles like ash,
a flame that failed to burn.

A voice calls from the dark,
but it is dust before it reaches me.
I am left—a map of wounds no one can read.
A flame whispers, its voice too soft to scorch but powerful enough to alter the air.Beneath, the earth stirs, roots curling like the breath of the forsaken.
Every step leaves a mark, fading before it brands.
We bear silence's weight, hidden beneath skin-shadows that refuse to yield, flickering in light.
The rope slumps—an unstrung throat.
Pills rattle like broken teeth.

The mirror unmouths my name,
gulps me in glass, spits static.

Outside, the city chews its own tongue.
Streetlights pulse like exposed nerves.

I step forward.

Or maybe I don’t.

The night swallows.

Nothing shifts.
Archer Jan 31
Come to our sweet song
You travel far from home
Rest your eyes a moment
Stand clear from falling stones
Our passion in our hearts
Is undeniable
Rest your eyes a moment
Sail closer to the shore

Drifting Moon
And Fleeting Tide
Rest your eyes
And wipe
Your cries

Drifting Moon
And Fleeting Tide
Rest your eyes
And mind
Your smiles

Come to our soft melody
You traveled far enough
Rest your soul a moment
Steer clear from sea that’s rough
Our dedication in our hearts
Is undeniable
Rest your soul a moment
Sail closer to our shore

Drifting Moon
And Fleeting Tide
Rest your soul
And try
Your lies

Drifting Moon
And Fleeting Tide
Rest your soul
And hide
Your skies
The writer of songs wishes to compose for his lover yet to come,
he asks the night if she will come as a floret in the wind
to caress him as a candle’s light, the lyrical harmony of
his beloved is clearer than the shower of the spheres
upon the deep violet petals, he rests into slumber
as a dreamlike vision appears of her hands softer
than velvet in motion upon the strings of the mandolin,
the gazes of him and her rivet as the one, gentle hymn of their souls,
he harrowingly arouses then walks to his thistly rose garden, revelation
arrives to him so he returns home to begin the inking of the symbols
on the music sheet papers, through his symphonies, he
resolves to tell the endless fables of love and tragedy.
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