It’s that space Where the clock don’t tick But your heart still does Wrote this in the in-between Not quite night, not yet day Eyes open, mind too loud But words too tired to say Cigarette burns on time Thoughts drift like unpaid rent I sit between who I was And who I might’ve meant Curtains barely breathing Room still holding breath I'm scrolling through old voices Like they're letters left from death Too soft for the streets Too numb for love Too wise for the game Too tired to bluff This ain’t hope But it’s not despair Just the weight of truth Floating mid-air In the in-between I find me Not who I post Not who they see In the in-between I hear the real No likes, no shares Just what I feel These walls don’t speak But they echo doubt No candles lit Still I burn out I told my boys “I’m straight” But I lied like thread Said “All good” But bled in my bed Mom called twice I ain’t pick up How do I explain I’m stuck in dusk? Every door creaks Like it wants to leave I sit still While my shadow breathes This ain’t suicide But it’s not survival It’s just survival Without revival I don't need help I just need time Not a rescue Just space to climb In the in-between I still write Tryna sketch peace In borrowed light In the in-between I hear the raw No filters here Just every flaw It’s 4:17 No sleep Still breathing Still me
