Twisted ***Reality***

[Verse 1] I learned to make a home inside a warning sign, hung little paintings where the ceiling used to cave. I know the names of every monster in my mind knowing their names never taught them to behave. I made a science out of why I couldn’t sleep, put every feeling underneath fluorescent light. If I can tell you how the wound became so deep, does that make blood look any different in the night? I’ve been the witness and the body and the crime, the little voice behind the glass taking notes. I keep arriving at the scene ahead of time, then acting surprised when I’m the one who sees the ghost. [Pre-Chorus] And I know, I know, every wire underneath my skin. I can tell you where it goes. I just don’t know why the lights still flicker when nobody’s living in. [Chorus] So burn the map. I’ve been everywhere it says I am. Every name they gave me fit until I learned to shed my hands. I don’t need heaven. I don’t need this to make sense. For a second I am weightless not forgiven, just immense. And if tomorrow finds me putting all the walls back up, tonight I left the front door open. Tonight, I was enough. [Verse 2] There’s an old me in the mirror asking where I went. I tell her, “Nowhere. You just never got to stay.” Every version of myself became an argument; I won them all and somehow still walked out ashamed. I loved like losing you would prove that I exist. I held on hard enough to leave my fingerprints. Some people leave and turn to memories in photographs; some never leave you only learn to live around the absence. There are dates I carry like a second skeleton, there are rooms inside my head I do not decorate. I used to think surviving meant that somebody had won. Now I think surviving only means I get to change. [Pre-Chorus] And I know, I know, I can turn myself to theory, make a diagram of hell. But there are things you only understand when you stop explaining yourself. [Chorus] So burn the map. I’ve been everywhere it says I am. Every name they gave me fit until I learned to shed my hands. I don’t need heaven. I don’t need this to make sense. For a second I am weightless not innocent, just present. And if tomorrow finds me putting all the walls back up, tonight I left the front door open. Tonight, I was enough. Maybe freedom isn’t beautiful. Maybe it’s ugly when it starts. Maybe growing means you mourn yourself without mistaking grief for God. Maybe I can miss the person I would’ve been in other lives. Maybe I can love the ruins without sleeping there at night. I’ve kissed the edge of every ending just to see if it kissed back. I’ve confused being self-aware with being impossible to crack. But the glass was never armor. It was glass. It was glass. [Outro — screamed, almost euphoric] I WANT THE WIND TO FUCK MY HAIR UP. I WANT TO WALK HOME IN THE RAIN. I WANT TO LAUGH WITHOUT EXPLAINING WHAT CHEMICAL CREATED IT INSIDE MY BRAIN. I WANT TO LOVE AND NOT DISSECT IT. I WANT A BODY THAT FEELS MINE. I WANT TO BE WRONG ABOUT THE FUTURE. I WANT TO WASTE A LITTLE TIME. LET EVERY PERFECT EXPLANATION ROT INSIDE THE LOST-AND-FOUND. I SPENT MY WHOLE LIFE HAUNTING MYSELF here is fucking beautiful. and that's the twisted reality