[Verse 1] There’s a hush where the pulse used to rise — light fractures like language no longer mine. I descend, not to flee, but to feel what silence forgot to conceal. [Pre-Chorus] Not drowning — just remembering how stillness speaks. [Chorus] No bottom, no breath, just the weight of the real — bones of old thoughts I refused to feel. The darker it gets, the sharper I am. I am not breaking — I’m shedding the dam. [Verse 2] Skins I outgrew float near the silt. Names dissolve in the womb of guilt. I trace the ghost of a childhood scream that fossilized in a failed belief. [Pre-Chorus] Not lost — just too awake for the air. [Chorus] No bottom, no breath, just the weight of the real — bones of old thoughts I refused to feel. The darker it gets, the sharper I am. I am not breaking — I’m shedding the dam. [Bridge] Even angels hold their breath when they cross this threshold. I met myself in the undertow — and we did not speak. We remembered. [Final Chorus – Variation] No surface, no prayer, just marrow and flame — a version of me that never had a name. The deeper I sank, the more I could see: What breaks me also sets me free.
