Hairline Fracture

[Verse 1]
The pothole on Hennepin we hit Tuesday night,
and the way your jaw went tight under the streetlight.
The thermostat locked at sixty-eight degrees.
The overdue notice for the MRI on your knees.
The space on the wall where my college photo hung.
Every single sentence that dies on my tongue.

[Chorus]
This isn't anger, it's just signal decay,
a list of frequencies I don't know how to play.
I love you with the lights on, love you in the gray,
but this quiet has a voltage that'll blow us all away.

[Verse 2]
Your mom's loaded comment about my old sedan.
My half-erased schematic of a five-year plan.
You said, "The dishwasher's leaking," like that's all you had to say,
when the water pressure in the pipes has been building up all day.

[Chorus]
This isn't anger, it's just signal decay,
a list of frequencies I don't know how to play.
I love you with the lights on, love you in the gray,
but this quiet has a voltage that'll blow us all away.

[Bridge]
One: the time you flinched in the grocery aisle.
Two: the twenty seconds you held that smile.
Three: the silence after I brought up his name.
Four: you see a system glitch, I see the whole damn game.

[Outro]
The blue ceramic mug from that Duluth gift shop,
sits by the sink with a hairline crack.