Relics

Mom danced on tables in '89
Hair big as the dreams she left behind
Now her laugh’s a ghost in the trailer park light
A flicker of neon swallowed by the night

We’re mannequins dressed in borrowed time
Posing perfect in a world that’s blind
The past is a jukebox stuck on repeat—
Play it loud ‘til the ache feels sweet

Dad’s old guitar screams in the attic dust
Strings rusted with what-ifs and if-onlys we discussed
The TV still hums those black-and-white lies
But the screen’s cracked where her tears used to rise

We’re mannequins dressed in borrowed time
Posing perfect in a world that’s blind
The past is a jukebox stuck on repeat—
Play it loud ‘til the ache feels sweet