Tired, But Still Here

Verse 1

I don’t want to write the same song

about how hard this life has been,

but the last few months feel like a war

I’ve been fighting with no skin.

Losing work, losing health,

losing someone I called home,

counting coins and disappointments,

feeling scared and so alone.

I’m tired of carrying this weight,

of old patterns on repeat,

of doing all the inner work

and still shaking on my feet.

I’m tired of being “strong enough,”

of always trying to transform,

of being told that “peace will come”

in the middle of the storm.

Pre‑Chorus

Most of these songs are not for them,

they’re letters I write to me—

little lanterns in the dark

so I remember how to breathe.

Chorus

I am tired, but I’m still here,

heart aching and eyes unclear.

If all I have tonight is tears,

then let these tears be my prayer.

I don’t need a silver line,

I just need this pain to rhyme,

so I can hear my own voice say:

“I’m not okay… but I’m still trying.”

Verse 2

I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining

every time I touch a pen,

but these words are how I bleed

without cutting open skin.

When I sing, I hear a version

of myself I can’t yet feel—

someone softer, someone braver,

someone learning how to heal.

So I’ll write it one more time,

not to glamorize the pain,

but to leave myself a roadmap

if I get lost here again.

A reminder I’ve survived

every night I thought I’d drown,

that exhaustion is a language

and these songs can write it down.

Pre‑Chorus

If my voice is all I have

when everything else falls apart,

then I’ll keep on filling pages

just to keep alive my heart.

Chorus

I am tired, but I’m still here,

heart aching and eyes unclear.

If all I have tonight is tears,

then let these tears be my prayer.

I don’t need a silver line,

I just need this pain to rhyme,

so I can hear my own voice say:

“I’m not okay… but I’m still trying.”

Bridge

One day these songs might be the proof

that I kept walking through the fire,

that even when I lost my way

I still reached for something higher.

Until then I won’t pretend

that this weight is light to hold—

I’ll just sing my truth out loud

so it doesn’t turn to stone.

Final Chorus

I am tired, but I’m still here,

not heroic, just sincere.

If all I have tonight is fear,

then let this song hold it with care.

I don’t need the perfect line,

I just need this breath of mine

to whisper through the breaking voice:

“I’m hurting… but I still choose life.”