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Spoken version
A recorded reading of “Dead Air / Loud Heart”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
Shelter light rings the drizzle; cracked screen dims. Coins and unsent messages weight a pocket. I count to two and pull the plug. Dead air hangs like a damp towel. Behind it, a pulse rehearses: jaw-click, lip-snap, bass-bin thump. When the room comes back, it returns sparking— silence struck to flint, twice.
Alternative version
Rain halos the bus stop; a cracked screen glows one last yes. I’ve swallowed pennies of speech; the fireworks stay locked. Count two. Let silence prove me. Dead air—then my loud heart knocks me free. We light the room when drums return; the quiet was a door. If I fall, I fall forward. Don’t fill it—feel it. Dead air. Loud heart.
Lyrics
(Oh—) (Yeah—) Bus stop light doing halos on rain, Cold breath ghosts on my windowpane. Cracked phone screen, one percent glow, Still enough to say “let’s go.” I’ve been swallowing words like pennies and pride, Keeping my fireworks locked inside. But tonight the quiet doesn’t win— Tonight I let the noise begin. I count my steps, I count to two, Let the silence prove what I can do. If I’m scared, I’m scared in motion— No more drowning in slow devotion. Dead air— … In the dead air, I hear my loud heart, Talking me up when the lights fall apart. I don’t need permission, I don’t need a sign, I just need this moment to feel like mine. Then the drums come back, and the room ignites, We turn that silence into dynamite— (Whoa-oh-oh) I’m alive right here, (Whoa-oh-oh) in the space between. Stairwell echo, trainers on steel, Every footstep saying “make it real.” Lift doors open like a stage cue, Mirror flash— I’m breaking through. They can keep their “maybe”, keep their “someday”, I’ve been living small in a loud hallway. Now I’m done being easy to miss— I’m the spark and the switch to this. I count my steps, I count to two, Let the silence sharpen into truth. If I fall, I fall advancing— No more waiting, no more cancelling. Dead air— (breathe) In the dead air… (Don’t fill it… feel it.) I used to pack the gaps with jokes and smoke, Anything to dodge the truth I spoke. But the quiet’s not empty, it’s a door— And I’m not afraid of it anymore. … In the dead air… [Lead] Dead air— [BVs] LOUD HEART!
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