Fluorescent morning, colorless sky Eyes crack open, don’t know why Ceiling tiles like empty frames Trying to remember his own name Air tastes like metal and sleep Dreams still tangled, heavy, deep Voices somewhere down the hall Like he’s underwater through it all Tape on skin, wires like vines Body here, but mind offline Time drips slow from IV lines Second chances flatline signs Didn’t mean to go that far Just wanted quiet, not the dark Didn’t want the world to end Just needed noise inside to bend Beep… beep… says I’m still here Sound of a heart that disappeared Not loud, not strong, not brave, not whole Just a tiny signal saying “hold” Didn’t fight, didn’t win Just didn’t quite give in Somewhere under all that weight A pulse said, “maybe… wait.” Nurse walks in with careful eyes Like glass might break if truth gets loud Sun crawls up the window edge Light he hasn’t earned, but found Hands feel foreign, slow to move Like coming back through heavy glue Shame sits first beside the bed Before a single word is said But breath goes in Breath comes out Body voting, small but loud He thought the end would feel like peace But peace don’t come from self-release It comes in pieces, strange and slow In choosing pain and staying though Chorus Not fixed Not new Just one more chance he didn’t choose Not strong Not saved Just still here, and that’s enough today Machines don’t lie They don’t pretend That fragile sound means not the end Beep… beep… I’m still here Tiny sound cutting through the fear Not healed, not whole, not light, not free But breathing’s still choosing me Didn’t win, didn’t lose Just woke up with one more move Somewhere under all that weight A pulse said, “you’re not too late.” This is the emotional turning point in the EP. Not triumph. Not miracle. Just the smallest, most honest victory: Still here.
