Two Versions of Me

I wake up heavy in a borrowed frame

Every step feels like a weight with my name

Some days I’m done before I start the day

The mirror shows what I can’t outrun

A quiet war that’s never done

There’s a voice in me that doesn’t ache

But I don’t know how to let it wake

There are two versions of me

One that bends, one that’s free

One that breaks just to breathe

One still sings in the deep

I am both, I can’t choose

I am fire, I am bruise

In my head I’m running wild and fast

Building worlds that forever last

I can rise, I can fly, I can be

Everything this body won’t let me

There’s a light I feel but cannot hold

A burning truth inside the cold

There are two versions of me

One that bends, one that’s free

One that breaks just to breathe

One still sings in the deep

I am both, I can’t choose

I am fire, I am bruise

Maybe I’m not split in two

Maybe this is what I do

Carry both and make it through

Every fracture shining through

There are two versions of me

And they’re both trying to be

Something whole, something true

Even shattered, breaking through

I am both, I won’t lose

I am fire, I am bruise