[Intro]
Breathing ragged in the dim light, I claw for a truth I can’t reach.
Dust on the floor, a name carved into the room, echoing like a threat.
[Verse 1]
I stitched my heart with broken strings, to play a lullaby for a ghost,
But the notes kept tearing the wound wider—can love survive this frost?
Shadows on the walls lean close, counting my breaths, one by one,
How many lies did I tell to keep from becoming a gun?
[Pre-Chorus]
Why does the dawn taste like rust on my tongue?
Why do your fingerprints still haunt the room I’m in?
[Chorus]
I’m tearing apart my own reflection, brace by brace,
Calling your name through teeth that ache with the void it creates.
If love is a fracture, I’m collecting the shards to face the hate,
Desperation drums in my chest, and I won’t pretend I’m okay.
[Verse 2]
Desarme my thoughts, expose the gears beneath the skin,
I breathe in the ash of promises that died before we could begin.
Massive wounds whisper, you were the storm I tried to tame,
But every anchor you tied to me sank me lower into the shame.
[Pre-Chorus]
Do these corridors remember the first scream I hid?
Are the echoes of your name still etched in the air I breathe?
[Chorus]
I’m tearing apart my own reflection, brace by brace,
Calling your name through teeth that ache with the void it creates.
If love is a fracture, I’m collecting the shards to face the hate,
Desperation drums in my chest, and I won’t pretend I’m okay.
[Bridge]
Why am I still listening to the ghosts that say we could have changed?
Why am I counting every breath I wasted in your cold arrange?
Cuts of memories slash the night, I’m standing at the breaking line,
If I fall, I fall with the truth—this pain is mine.
[Chorus]
I’m tearing apart my own reflection, brace by brace,
Calling your name through teeth that ache with the void it creates.
If love is a fracture, I’m collecting the shards to face the hate,
Desperation drums in my chest, and I won’t pretend I’m okay.
[Outro]
Shadows retreat but the walls still hold the scars,
I whisper your name to the dark, counting the lessons in the shards.
If forgiveness is a door, I’m not sure I know the last key,
The room remembers, and so do we—never truly free.
