Found it under spare cables
in a box I never marked
Black paper gone soft at the corners
silver dust across the dark

Nova laughing by the van door
Kade asleep against an amp
Me pretending not to notice
someone caught me in the frame

There was Lyra with her sticks crossed
behind her neck beneath the light
Lucien halfway in the doorway
already listening to the night

Vanta staring past the camera
like she planned to disappear
All of us inside one cheap shot

before leaving had a price

I ran my thumb across the faces
felt the paper start to bend

Some things don’t survive you

Some things refuse to end

Rust on the rail
dust in the grain

A blown-out chord
still holding our names

I thought I left
that whole life alone

But every page
kept dragging it home

No clean return
no debt fully paid

The shape I left

and what stayed

One shot outside the rehearsal room
rain turning coats nearly black
Someone wrote last show underneath it

We never knew which one they meant

Kade had coffee on the console
Nova had blood upon her sleeve
I had one boot through the doorway
making leaving look easy

There were rooms we nearly ruined
songs we buried under noise
Every photograph looked peaceful

because photographs have no voice

But I remember every argument
every silence after sound
How I used to stare down at my feet

and mutter at the ground

I said the band was just a building
I said I only left a room

Then an old picture proved
I had taken all of you

Rust on the rail
dust in the grain

A blown-out chord
still holding our names

I thought I left
that whole life alone

But every page
kept dragging it home

No clean return
no debt fully paid

The shape I left

and what stayed

I used to stare at my boots
like the floor could keep a secret

Used to think silence meant
nobody could reach it

Now the afternoon sun
cuts straight through the room

Hits every face in that album

and wakes up the dust

We looked alive

Maybe that was enough

I closed the book
then opened it again

Not looking for forgiveness
Not trying to be friends

No reunion in the kitchen
No grand return to stage

Just proof that we were really there

before we turned the page

I still hear the train line
beyond the factory wall

Same iron rhythm underneath
every rise and every fall

It does not make me whole
It does not make things right

It only keeps the old names moving

through another night

Rust on the rail
dust in the grain

A blown-out chord
still holding our names

I thought I left
that whole life alone

But every page
kept dragging it home

No clean return
no debt fully paid

The shape I left

and what stayed

I kept the album

That’s all