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A recorded reading of “A Love That Lies Still”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
It didn’t end. Not really. There was no goodbye. No fight. No slammed door. Just stillness. We stopped touching. Stopped asking. Stopped choosing. Until we became background noise in each other’s lives. Now we lie next to each other like furniture. Like two abandoned statues of something that once meant something. I still make your coffee. You still fold my shirts. We play house in a haunted version of who we used to be. People think love dies loud. But this one went quiet. It curled up in the corners. Slipped into the cracks. Turned every laugh into a sigh before we even noticed. And still— we stay. Because the alternative is emptier than the hollow we’ve built. I dream of screaming. Of leaving. Of fire. But then you look at me with tired eyes that used to glow— and I remember how much it hurts to unlove someone who never stopped being there. A love that lies still isn’t dead. It just forgot how to live. And maybe so did we.
Lyrics
You pour your coffee, I fake a smile We haven’t touched in quite a while The silence screams, the walls confess This love is dressed in second-guess We speak in glances, never loud We live together in a shroud A love that lies still, too tired to run A game we lost before begun No fire left, no sparks to steal Just hearts too numb to feel what's real We sleep like strangers in a bed Where every dream is left unread You reach for me but not for truth We both forgot the thrill of youth It’s not over But it isn’t alive We don’t fight We just survive A love that lies still, soft and slow No place to leave, no place to go We carry it because we must A fragile shell of former trust
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