[VERSE 1] At first I only lowered my voice, Stopped asking to be heard. Learned to fold a screaming heart Inside a quiet word. Then I stopped returning phone calls, Stopped showing up outside. Cut away the parts of me That were too difficult to hide. I thought pain needed room to move. I thought it needed space. So I kept making myself smaller, Gave it less of me to chase. [PRE-CHORUS] If I could become nothing, There’d be nothing left to bruise. I never asked what else I would be forced to lose. [CHORUS] The smaller I made myself, The fewer bricks it took. I traded space for safety Without a second look. I kept shrinking from the hurting Till the walls became my skin. The smaller I made myself, The easier it was To wall me in. [VERSE 2] One brick for every phone call I watched ring until it died. One for every honest answer That I swallowed down inside. One brick for every doorway I was too afraid to cross. One for every piece of living I mistook for something lost. I built the walls for shelter. I made them strong and high. No window for the memories. No door for asking why. The pain grew faint and distant. For a while, I called that peace— Till I found the walls protected it As much as they protected me. [CHORUS] The smaller I made myself, The fewer bricks it took. I traded space for safety Without a second look. I kept shrinking from the hurting Till the walls became my skin. The smaller I made myself, The easier it was To wall me in. [BRIDGE] I kept making myself smaller Because smaller meant less pain. Every inch that I surrendered Was an inch it couldn’t claim. That was the bargain. That was the lie. The pain got smaller— So did I. What I never understood As I disappeared within: Every inch that I surrendered Made it easier to wall me in. [BREAKDOWN] The walls fit like a coffin, Every breath against the stone. I had built the perfect shelter— And buried myself alone. There was barely room for anger. There was barely room for fear. There was barely room for anyone To know that I was here. [FINAL CHORUS] Now I’m making myself larger. Let the masonry complain. I’m taking back each stolen inch, Even if it lets in pain. A wall may keep the hurt outside, But it locks the living in. I would rather take up space and hurt Than disappear within. The larger I make myself, The more those old walls shake. It may take me years to build a life— But fewer bricks To break. [OUTRO] The pain grew smaller. So did I. That was the bargain. That was the lie.
