Aggregate Silence

[Verse 1]
Your Sunday waakye stopped smelling through my floor vents.
The District line still shakes the kettle, but the resonance is different.
I hear the sound of one suitcase on laminate flooring,
the scrape of a chair where two used to be pulled out every morning.

[Chorus]
I chart the aggregate silence,
the load-bearing quiet where a life used to be.
This signal loss is a blueprint,
of the ghost you've become to him, and the ghost you've made of me.

[Verse 2]
Heard the muffled treble through the party wall at 4 AM.
"Don't make this a structure," I swear I heard you tell him.
Then the low-frequency hum of a car that's left for good,
just static from your window, misunderstood.

[Chorus]
I chart the aggregate silence,
the load-bearing quiet where a life used to be.
This signal loss is a blueprint,
of the ghost you've become to him, and the ghost you've made of me.

[Bridge]
These cantilevered feelings, they can't hold their own weight.
I just measure the shear stress, a little too late.

[Outro]
Now it's just the fridge buzz.
The final frequency.