Paper Crown

She said it like a sentence, casual and clean, Like folding up the map of everything we'd been. Coffee cooling in two cups on the sill, Her eyes were quiet, and my world sat still. I laughed it off like it was some terrible joke, But the punchline landed hard and I choked. She picked at the seam of a photograph smile, Told me I’d been acting like a guest for a while. I kept asking why — she kept staring past, Like our good times were only traces in glass. She drew a small circle on a napkin and sighed, Said “This is where we stop,” and the words slid by. She took my crown and folded it down, Left me wearing the pieces of a paper crown. Said it’s not you, it’s the way I breathe tonight — She burned the bridge and walked into the light. Oh, paper crown goodbye, I watched you go, Oh, paper crown goodbye, and I’m the one left low. I replayed the hours like a scratched-up tape, Every little fracture I swore I couldn’t fake. Her laugh used to land like filters and gold, Now it sounded like a story I had been sold. She shoved her promises in a suitcase of sighs, Left the keys, the songs, the leftover ties. I called her name until my voice fell flat, She answered once and then she never came back. You always wanted spaces I could never fill, I built a thousand ladders and you climbed them still. The window’s fogged with our private storm, She left with the sun, and I stayed lukewarm. She took my crown and folded it down, Left me wearing the pieces of a paper crown. Said it’s not you, it’s the way I breathe tonight — She burned the bridge and walked into the light. Oh, paper crown goodbye, I watched you go, Oh, paper crown goodbye, and I’m the one left low. I tried to staple memories back in place, But paper tears show up like lines on my face. I could blame the weather, blame the crooked street, Blame the slow unraveling under our sheets. But truth is a mirror I don’t like to see — You wanted somewhere different, and that wasn’t me. So keep your skyline, keep your passport and dreams, I’ll keep the echoes, and the quiet between. I keep your lipstick on a mug in the sink, Your number still glows on my phone when I blink. It’s a monument of small things that don’t mean a lot, But they’re all the proofs of everything she got. She took my crown and folded it down, Left me wearing the pieces of a paper crown. Said it’s not you, it’s the way I breathe tonight — She burned the bridge and walked into the light. Oh, paper crown goodbye, I watched you go, Oh, paper crown goodbye, and I’m the one left low. Paper crown goodbye — I’ll learn to let you lie, Paper crown goodbye — I’ll wear the rain and try. I keep a corner of the crown in my palm, A little flutter that keeps its shape and its harm. She’s gone like a season that forgot to come through, And I’m in a room that remembers the echo of you