Morning hits the busted street,

Right where you said you had to go.

Your note’s still in my denim pocket—

Soft as if it already knows.

I walked the long way out of town,

Let the gravel chew my doubts.

Even in that crooked daylight,

I learned the dark ain’t what it shouts.

So I’ll keep the light, keep the light—

The one you swore would burn out quick.

Hold it like a match I shielded

When the wind came hard and thick.

When the old ghosts start their leaning

And the past kicks in the door,

I’ll keep the light, keep the light—

Not for you. Not anymore.

There’s a chair you never sat in—

Kept it by the window just in case.

Took me till the winter thunder

To drag it out and clear the space.

Your letters, they got water‑stained

From nights I read them way too slow.

Turns out hope don’t live in paper—

Only in the breath you let go.

So I’ll keep the light, keep the light—

The one you swore would burn out quick.

Hold it like a match I shielded

When the wind came hard and thick.

When the old ghosts start their leaning

And the past kicks in the door,

I’ll keep the light, keep the light—

Not for you. Not anymore.

Breaking showed me where I’m standing,

Waking taught me what I’m not.

No big sign or revelation—

Just a heartbeat on the spot.

When the sky refused its starlight,

I made one from what I’ve got.

If you’re ever back this way

Thinking about the life we almost had,

You’ll see shadows on the doorway—

But none of them are looking back.

That little flame you tried to smother

Burns a color of its own,

Not a beacon for returning—

Just a way to walk me home.

So I’ll keep the light, keep the light

Even when the night leans hard.

Held it like a match I shielded

Through the wreckage and the scars.

Every road that scraped me open

Still pushed me toward the truth—

I kept the light, kept the light,

And it lit a way I never knew.

Not for you.

Not anymore.