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Spoken version
A recorded reading of “Ashes of You”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
I burned the letters you never wrote, each silence, page by page. Your name curled up in candle smoke, a ghost too old for age. I wore you like a stair-rail bruise, a warmth I couldn’t keep. I hugged the air and something shifted— a rib went out of sleep. Fingerprints kept turning up in dreams, a shadow inside my cheek. We chalked a floor plan in the seams; it held a cup—then leaked. You were never mine to lose, and still I lost the same. Ash kept choosing where to live— gritting the throat, sifting the sheets, caught on the string of a note, a thin, mean buzz of wire. I keep your maybe like a relic in the chapel of my chest. Almost is the sharpest edge— no wound left to dress. Don’t trouble yourself with haunting; I’ve practised that alone. Ashes of you in my throat, in my bed, in every note. You don’t have to haunt me, love— I’ll haunt myself enough.
Alternative version
I burned the letters you never wrote— each silence, page by page. Your name curls in candle smoke, a ghost too old for age. I wore you like a velvet bruise, like warmth I couldn’t keep. A hug I gave to nothing still pulls ribs out when I sleep. You were never mine to lose, but I lost you just the same. A love that never had a name still leaves ashes in the flame.
Instructional lyrics
[Intro – 6 bars of ambient noise: soft wind, distant piano, tape hiss] [Verse 1 – slow piano, solo vocals, raw delivery] I burned the letters you never wrote Lit the silence page by page Your name still curls in candle smoke Like it’s haunted by your age I wore your ghost like velvet skin Felt you in the air I breathe But every hug I give to no one Pulls a rib out when I leave [Pre-Chorus – subtle strings enter, breathy harmonies swell] You were never mine to lose But I grieved you just the same Love that never had a name Still leaves ashes in the flame [Chorus – soft swell of cello, layered vocals with ghostly harmonies] Ashes of you, in my throat In my bed, in every note I sing to a ghost I made Out of the promises you never gave You don’t have to haunt me, love I’ll haunt myself enough [Verse 2 – introduce light guitar and ambient swell] You left fingerprints in dreams And a shadow on my smile A future that was fiction But I loved it for a while You were never cruel to me But your silence was a scream Now every quiet morning Is a crime scene from a dream [Pre-Chorus – repeat, more intensity] You were never mine to lose But I grieved you just the same Love that never had a name Still leaves ashes in the flame [Chorus – repeat with more emotional weight] Ashes of you, in my throat In my bed, in every note I sing to a ghost I made Out of the promises you never gave You don’t have to haunt me, love I’ll haunt myself enough [Bridge – drop all instruments except piano, one solo voice, trembling delivery] I hold your maybe like a relic In the chapel of my chest You were almost, almost something And that hurts the very best [Final Chorus – softest version, just piano and close mic vocal, optional single harmony on final line] Ashes of you, in my throat In my bed, in every note You don’t have to haunt me, love I’ll haunt myself enough [Outro – let piano fade into wind, one note held long, then silence]
Song info
A delicate piano-driven ballad steeped in grief and the emotional residue of unspoken love. Minimalist yet cinematic, the song blends soft cello, ambient textures, and whisper-layered harmonies to create a ghostly atmosphere. Perfect for heartbreak montages, candlelit tears, and memories that never fully left.
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