Verse 1
(The piano is sparse and slow. Vocals are flat, numb, and barely above a whisper.)
I still look at my phone to see if I’m allowed to eat.
I still freeze like a statue when I hear tires on the street.
My heart beats in my throat if the front door slams from the wind.
I’m checking the corners of the room for where the shadow begins.
The bruises on my ribs have turned from purple to gray.
But the blueprint of your fingers hasn't faded away.
Pre-Chorus
(The piano chords get heavier, a low cello drone starts underneath.)
They told me I was safe the second that I crossed the line.
They told me it was over, that I’d heal over time.
But they don’t see the phantom standing right by my bed.
They don’t hear the screaming inside of my head.
Chorus
(The vocals break into a raw, full-chest belt—cracking with real pain and exhaustion.)
Because I’m still shaking in the corner of a perfectly quiet room!
I’m still scrubbing at my skin trying to wash away your perfume!
You didn't just leave a scar, you left shrapnel in my chest.
I survived the explosion, but I can't survive the rest.
I’m out of the cage, but my mind is still locked in the dark.
How do I put myself together when you broke every single part?
Verse 2
(The cello mimics a low, weeping sigh between the piano notes.)
I tried to go to the store, but a stranger raised his hand to wave.
And I dropped to the floor like a dog, waiting for the blade.
Everyone stared at me like I was losing my mind.
They don't know the monster that I left behind.
I live in a constant panic, a body wired to explode.
Carrying a mountain on a broken, muddy road.
Pre-Chorus
(The strings swell louder, building tension.)
They told me I was safe the second that I crossed the line.
They told me it was over, that I’d heal over time.
But they don’t see the phantom standing right by my bed.
They don’t hear the screaming inside of my head.
Chorus
(Maximum emotional delivery—screaming the lyrics through the melody.)
Because I’m still shaking in the corner of a perfectly quiet room!
I’m still scrubbing at my skin trying to wash away your perfume!
You didn't just leave a scar, you left shrapnel in my chest.
I survived the explosion, but I can't survive the rest.
I’m out of the cage, but my mind is still locked in the dark.
How do I put myself together when you broke every single part?
Bridge
(The music cuts out completely. Just the sound of a ragged, trembling breath.)
The locks are new.
The lights are on.
So why am I still dying...
Long after you're gone?
Outro
(A single, repeating piano note, quiet and distant.)
Look what you did to me.
Look what you left.
Just a ghost...
Choking on my own breath.
(The final piano note sustains and slowly bleeds into silence.)
Arkh
