The Pretending Was the Door

[Verse 1 — Low light, slow burn] Low light, slow burn Learning the lines Rehearsing the way I lean into you Is this hunger Or am I just convincing Both of us at the same time? Saxophone moaning through a wall I built Touching your jaw like I meant it But did I mean it Or did I mean The version of me that means it? [Pre-Chorus — Breath close, arrangement tightening] Breath in, role on Breath out, gone Can't tell the dancer from the dance Can't tell the wanting from the performance [Chorus — Beat hits hard on “real,” then drops away] Is this real? Real Is this real? Or am I just good at this? Am I wanting you Or wanting the wanting? Real There it goes again The beat drops out And I'm left holding Something I can't name Is it real Or am I just good at being wanted? [Verse 2 — Smoky trumpet, bass crawling underneath] Trumpet in a smoke-filled room Playing for no one but me I arch my back And I don't know If it's for you Or for the mirror I practiced this face in the dark Till it felt like mine Till the pretending Turned to muscle memory Till I forgot Which ache was invented And which one I came in with [Pre-Chorus — Restrained, increasingly unstable] Breath in, role on Breath out, gone Can't tell the dancer from the dance Can't tell the wanting from the performance [Chorus — Beat hits “real,” silence answers it] Is this real? Real Is this real? Or am I just good at this? Am I wanting you Or wanting the wanting? Real There it goes again The beat drops out And I'm left holding Something I can't name Is it real Or am I just good at being wanted? [Bridge — Nearly bare, intimate vocal] Maybe the performance became the truth Maybe pretending long enough Is just a slower way of arriving Maybe I wanted you the whole time And the acting was the part I was scared of Not the desire The desire was easy The honesty was the part I couldn't perform [Final Chorus — Darker, fuller, ambiguity left intact] Is this real? Real Is this real? Or am I just good at this? Am I wanting you Or wanting the wanting? Real There it goes again The beat drops out And I'm left holding Something I can't name Is it real Or am I just good at being wanted? [Outro — Almost whispered, instruments dissolving] Real... Real Maybe Maybe this was always The real part The pretending Was how I got here The pretending Was the door Real