[Intro – Soft / Breathing Room]
Some nights don’t belong to now…
They arrive without knocking.
I’m still here.
⸻
[Verse 1]
Where did this pain begin?
Was it a moment or a year?
A door I closed too early
Or something I carried here
A smell, a word, a certain silence
And suddenly I’m not around
My body learned lessons too early
Before I had language or sound
I trace it through old versions
Faces I used to wear
Some were brave, some were breaking
Some just learned how not to care
⸻
[Pre-Chorus]
I kept asking for a sign
Looking outward every time
They say, “It’s over, you’re safe now”
But safety doesn’t clock out on time
⸻
[Chorus]
Which version of me is strong enough now
To sit with the truth and not shut it down?
I don’t need answers wrapped in blame
I just need to know my name
I’m still here, somehow
With a heart that learned to hide
I didn’t break—I adapted
In a world that takes from the inside
⸻
[Verse 2]
I’m emotionally exhausted
From fighting ghosts that never left
From proving I survived something
That still lives inside my chest
I flinch at kindness, brace for tone
Read rooms like survival maps
I learned love with conditions
And silence filled in the gaps
They ask why I’m guarded, distant
Why trust feels heavy to hold
They didn’t live inside my skin
When “no” was ignored or controlled
⸻
[Pre-Chorus 2]
I don’t need pity or proof
Just space to breathe my truth
I don’t need to be who I was
To honor what I’ve been through
⸻
[Chorus – Lifted]
Where is safety when the world’s too loud?
It’s not in the crowd—it’s inside me now
I’m learning to stay, not run away
I’m growing into a new phase
I’m still here, somehow
Learning how to feel again
Teaching my nervous system
That this moment isn’t then
⸻
[Bridge – Gentle Resolve]
Some wounds don’t close, they soften
Some scars don’t fade, they guide
Healing isn’t clean or linear
Sometimes strength is drawing a line
Peace isn’t loud, it doesn’t rush
It waits for me to breathe
I can thank the pain for teaching me
Then choose myself—gently
⸻
[Final Chorus / Outro]
So this is where the pain began
And this is where I take my stand
Not against myself—but with
Every part I once dismissed
I didn’t disappear—I stayed
Not healed, but awake and real
Still tired. Still healing.
Still here… somehow.