NO HALO DAYS - by Lucid Hertz

No angels in the drywall—just a buzzing phone,
sink full of dishes, rent on hold.
Head loud like a siren you can’t turn down,
every scroll’s a sermon telling you to drown.
They sell awakening like fireworks—clean;
real life’s ash on the porch and a floor to sweep.
Panic rides shotgun, hope in the trunk,
you still gotta eat, take pills, take out the junk.
Open the window. Drink water slow.
Name five things you can see, then let one go.
Text someone “hey, I’m here,” don’t dress it up;
truth isn’t pretty, it’s a chipped coffee cup.
If it loads before breath, it isn’t your thought—
exhale once, let the body talk.
Walking is prayer when the mind wants war;
put on socks, shoes, step out the door.

[Hook]
No halo days—still show up.
Do one small thing—then one more step.
Turn down lies—turn up breath.
If all you did was stay—you kept.

Awakening hurts; that’s muscle tearing—
old myths shedding, nerves all flaring.
You’re not failing because joy won’t stay;
some nights crack open so morning can say
“pay your bills, call your dad, answer your friend,”
not “float over rooftops”—just mend.
Therapy at 3, same chair, same lamp,
nothing dramatic—still moves the ramp.
Relapse? Okay. Reset the page.
Microwave ramen, sweep the rage.
You don’t need meaning for every bruise;
sometimes survival’s the holy news.
I’ve chanted in deserts and slept on floors—
the bravest thing I ever did was chores.
If it loads before breath, say “not mine—pass.”
Count 4–7–8 till the thunder drains fast.

[Hook]
No halo days—still show up.
Do one small thing—then one more step.
Turn down lies—turn up breath.
If all you did was stay—you kept.

]
When the room tilts:
• Put both feet flat; name the year.
• Cold water on wrists; cheap miracle, near.
• Read one page; not a prophecy, plain.
• Window, sky, one star—hold its name.
• If the thought came preloaded, decline.
• Say out loud: “This feeling ends. I don’t.”

[Final]
Some awakenings whisper like laundromats hum;
some look like crying in a parked car, done.
Either way counts. The meter says “live.”
You don’t have to bloom—just give what you can give.

[Hook
[outro]]
No halo days—still show up.
Do one small thing—then one more step.
Turn down lies—turn up breath.
If all you did was stay—you kept.