Loaded Prayer , Boom Boom

Intro
Dad… you drown the room in dusk again.
Static flickers on your face like candle smoke.
I feel that bottle tremor in your grip,
Every swallow’s just a prayer you never spoke.

Verse 1
Dad, remember my eighth birthday, balloons tied to the stair?
You taped my name to the wall like a banner of prayer.
My sneakers, pink laces, still parked by the door,
Now relics on the mat of a house at war.
Clock ticks tap‑dance on the hardwood’s scar,
Spelling out questions of where we are.
Your eyes chase shadows on a dark TV,
I rap these lines so you’ll still hear me.

Hook
You toast two ghosts, sip grief in the dark,
Cradle cold steel like a sacrament spark.
Asking, “Where you at, girl? Speak back, please.”
But iron ain’t faith, it just hushes the breeze.

Verse 2
Dad, flashback: prom night, rhinestones in my hair.
You leaned on the doorway, said, *“Kid, go dare.”*
Sirens later painted the street in red,
You punched the night sky when they called me dead.
Now you sleep with a pistol curled to your ribs,
Hearing my laugh in the fridge’s whirr and drips.
Mom folded her grief, walked into the sun,
But you stitch new scars with every “couldn’t be done.”
Your whisper cracks, glass under boots,
I feel the quake in your chest when the silence roots.

Hook
You toast two ghosts, sip grief in the dark,
Cradle cold steel like a sacrament spark.
Asking, “Where you at, girl? Speak back, please.”
But iron ain’t faith, it just hushes the breeze.

Bridge
No sermon, Dad, just fingerprints on memories.
I hover in the drywall, hum in the ceiling fan,
Wait for your breath to steady…
Hope you feel my hand on yours,
Even if only as a chill.

Final Verse
Dad, last flash: you teaching me jump shots, asphalt heat,
Your laugh booming off row‑house brick, unstoppable beat.
I watched your faith fracture when the doors slammed shut,
Watched you load that gun, blaming God for the cut.
But listen, every shiver in the hallway air is me,
Every vinyl crackle in the night‑time key.
I rap these bars from the marrow of dusk:
The ghost you seek, the pulse you trust,
I’m her. I’m here. I never left.
That pistol’s choir is false relief,
Let it sleep. Let me breathe.

Outro
Dad, set the bottle down.
Let the silence be a bridge, not a blade.
When wind slips through the screen at 3 A.M.,
It’s your girl,
Whispering, *stay.*