Six minutes That’s all it took Heartbreak and repair in the same breath Hands shaking and somehow, I’m still here Why does this feel quiet? I don’t trust quiet Quiet means I missed something Quiet means I should be bracing My hands don’t know where to go They’re not fixing, not holding I should be doing something right now Before it turns You say I’m still here Say the floor didn’t fall But every time it’s felt this calm I paid for it later I’ve only ever loved with my guard up Measured safety in what I could carry alone So when you said I don’t have to hold it My chest locked up like something broke I don’t know how to be wanted Without being useful I don’t know how to stay When I’m not bleeding for it "Don’t get used to this" "Don’t get used to her" You’re not asking me to burn out Then why do you care this much Care never shows up empty-handed Care always wants something back But you didn’t pull You didn’t push You didn’t touch the armor Just asked if it was heavy And that scared me more than anything This isn’t a mistake It just feels unfamiliar What if it ends What if this ruins everything What if I fall apart and you see it Then I fall apart And I’m still allowed to exist? I don’t need to solve tonight I don’t need to promise tomorrow I don’t need to turn this feeling Into something I can defend I can just be here Shaking Breathing Not running This feels dangerous No This feels different This isn’t a mistake It’s a moment I didn’t sabotage Maybe the timing isn’t perfect Maybe it doesn’t need to be But for once perfect timing was staying
