I used to record melodies on whatever I had A phone mic a broken laptop sometimes just memory In high school rooms with the door half closed I hummed ideas I couldn’t hold I didn’t know the names of things Just how they felt and when they broke I learned my chords the long way round My fingers sore, my theory thin Every note felt like a question mark I wasn’t sure I’d earned to sing I kept a thesaurus on the desk Like a friend who knew more than me I’d circle words I couldn’t reach And wonder which one sounded honest I wrote songs for other people Things I couldn’t say out loud Thank yous goodbyes stay safes don’t forget me now Music always felt so close to me Like a door I almost knew Close enough to hear the sound But never quite walk through I tried to give shape to borrowed feelings Gratitude I didn’t own Hoping if I sang it right It might sound like coming home I watched others build their worlds Line by line, year by year Their songs became the ground I stood on Even when I stayed unclear I didn’t make this alone I never did Every note came from somewhere Every sound had a history Some were left behind on purpose Some were gifts I didn’t know how to return Music always stayed with me Even when I stayed apart Close enough to feel the pull Close enough to start And these wings I never grew Still somehow let me rise Built from all the work you did I just learned how to try I used to think a song had to land somewhere To be real But sometimes it’s enough To lift So thank you —for the borrowed wings.
