Lyric

I was young, yeah, I wrote about death all the time

Now I only remember fragments, splinters of lines

The iPhone 6 where I hoarded every verse I designed

Drowned early summer, bathroom floor, waterline

I thought it got crushed, stomped flat, bent out of shape

Like something stepped on it, erased without a trace

But there it was — a white plastic urine bottle

Too big, too specific, awkward to model

Even laid on its side, nothing spilled out

A vessel designed to endure the worst routes

Engineering for the body when dignity fails

An object that knows how the human leaks and derails

“Sorry about that,” I said, barely audible, low

Spring wind lifted the curtains, let the outside flow

They swayed like lungs breathing borrowed air

Trees outside the window flickered, green glare

Flicker, blink, on-off, like a broken screen

But faster than that — the urine caught light in between

It rippled, it waved, bent photons in gold

A cheap miracle, quietly bold

“Nah, it’s fine,” you said, or maybe I did

Dialogue thin as a memory half-forbid

Voices weren’t sharp, just drifting nearby

Like we didn’t want language to testify

Through the lifted curtain, colors collided

Leaves, daylight, yellow brilliance braided

Too bright to be pretty, too real to ignore

A scene that no poem could store anymore

This isn’t metaphor, this isn’t a sign

Just liquid and light taking up time

A body doing body things, honestly crude

And the world responding, painfully nude

I lost my words to water, lost my archive to chance

Now all I’ve got left is this accidental dance

Between shame and physics, between loss and glare

Between what we remember and what just stays there

I didn’t mean to make beauty out of it, no

But the brightness insisted, refused to go

Like life does sometimes — unwanted, intense

Overexposed, lacking narrative sense

I was young, I wrote death like it knew my name

Now I watch light tremble in something profane

If this is surviving, it’s quieter than art

Just standing still while the world tears itself apart