“Goodbye” has always been a quiet reckoning.
As the title track of Volume Five (Goodbye)—released earlier this year—the poem was written as a short fictional narrative, a self-contained emotional arc that explores the moment when attachment finally gives way to acceptance. It is not drawn from personal experience. Instead, it functions the way a short story does: observing, reflecting, and concluding, all within a limited emotional space.
Now, that narrative is expanding into a visual form.
I’m announcing the official music video for “Goodbye,” a cinematic interpretation that follows the poem line by line and scene by scene.
Before the First Line Is Spoken
The first moments are still and restrained: an empty interior space, early light, objects that suggest transition rather than drama. A packed or half-packed suitcase. A phone left untouched. A window framing the outside world. The camera lingers, not to explain, but to let the viewer feel the quiet inevitability that precedes a goodbye. Nothing happens—yet something has already ended.
Only then do the lyrics begin.
A Visual Translation of the Poem
Each stanza of “Goodbye” is treated as its own visual paragraph. The scenes do not overlap emotionally; they progress exactly as the poem progresses.
When the poem speaks of surprise and unexpected attraction, the visuals remain fleeting and understated—passing moments, glances, proximity without permanence. When the tone shifts from lightness to sorrow, the imagery follows suit, moving from warmth into isolation, from motion into stillness.
There is no singing. No visible performance. No attempt to dramatize the speaker. The human presence is implied through gesture, distance, reflection, and absence. The story unfolds through environments, transitions, and symbolic movement—crossing streets without meeting, doors closing, messages unsent, birds taking flight.
By the time the poem acknowledges that what existed could not last, the visuals no longer resist that truth. They accept it.
Freedom, Futility, and Closure
The middle of the video reflects the emotional impasse at the heart of the poem: loving someone who cannot—or will not—stay. The imagery emphasizes contrast rather than conflict. One figure is always in motion, always leaving. The other remains grounded, observant, and increasingly resolved.
When the poem speaks of denied closure, the visuals avoid confrontation entirely. Silence replaces dialogue. Unanswered gestures replace explanation. This absence is deliberate—closure is not granted; it is taken.
The Final Goodbye
The closing verses of “Goodbye” are not bitter. They are clear.
As the poem releases fantasy, the video releases visual weight. The color palette lightens. The camera opens outward. What was once enclosed becomes expansive. The final scene does not linger—it fades, allowing the central figure to disappear into space rather than be framed by it.
The disappearance is not tragic. It is complete.
A Title Track, Fully Realized
As the title track of Volume Five (Goodbye), this poem represents the album’s emotional thesis: endings can be graceful, final, and self-possessed. The music video brings that thesis into focus by refusing spectacle and choosing precision instead.
This is not a performance piece. It is a visual short story—one that follows the poem exactly as written, honoring its structure, restraint, and fictional nature.
“Goodbye” was always about knowing when to leave.
Now, it knows how to look.
