⸻
VERSE 1
under the streetlights
the world feels stitched in silver.
my pulse
keeps writing stories on my skin—
stories you’d ruin
if you ever got close enough to read them.
no footsteps,
no entrance,
just the ache
of wanting a ghost I made up myself.
⸻
PRE-CHORUS
I’m addicted to the danger
of imagining your hands,
the ones that never touched me
but somehow still command.
⸻
CHORUS
I bloom like a black orchid
whenever I think your name,
sweet on the outside
but the center tastes like flame.
you’re a shadow I invented,
a fever I can’t shake—
I crave the things about you
that never even came.
black orchid…
yeah, that’s what you make.
⸻
VERSE 2
I’m tracing
constellations on my collarbone,
pretending they’re the places
you’d whisper into.
my mirror
catches me wanting someone
who only lives
in the ruin of fantasies
I never say out loud.
⸻
PRE-CHORUS
you’re a myth I let unravel
in the dark behind my eyes,
I breathe you in like poison
and call it paradise.
⸻
CHORUS
I bloom like a black orchid
whenever I think your name,
sweet on the outside
but the center tastes like flame.
you’re a shadow I invented,
a fever I can’t shake—
I crave the things about you
that never even came.
black orchid…
yeah, that’s what you make.
⸻
BRIDGE (whispered, eerie, aesthetic)
don’t show up,
don’t ruin it.
you’re better
as a fantasy—
dangerous,
unreachable…
mine.
⸻
FINAL CHORUS
I bloom like a black orchid
in the dark where you belong,
danger dressed in velvet,
a beautifully wrong song.
you’re a shadow I invented,
and maybe that’s okay—
the real you might be nothing,
but the myth is why I stay.
JOREN
