Good for the ghost in my hallway,

good for the key that don’t turn.

Good for the text left on read all day,

good for the gasoline I never burn.

Good for the mirror that forgets my face,

good for the song that won’t resolve.

I’m good for the ache, the empty space,

good for the mystery you’ll never solve.

Diamond lashes caught in the flash, I’m your violet-eyed escape

Silk scandal whispered down the Riviera, every scandal is a take

I marry the thunder, wear the crash—camera gods adore my ache

From National Velvet to the ruin of Rome, I bloom louder than the break

Press the pearls to my pulse, feel the foxfire in my veins ignite

I die in technicolor, resurrect in tabloid light, forever midnight

Saint-sinner, I kiss like a script and leave like a legend on the wind

They’ll carve my name across the sky—Elizabeth, unchained, unpinned