What’s worse? A cursed word… Delivered with urgency? Purge… What’s worse? A cursed word delivered with urgency, an emergent purge, impure for the cure. Shit stirred to lure what Love once learned is now earned and endured. Ensured… Like insurance for Life with the purest of pure. Sure? Come on in… Let me introduce myself. Thoughtaholic with a smile, style so sick it makes sickness feel sick. Diseased with a myth. Blessed with what’s missed. Evil grins and stares… Winks with glare. Purity is peculiar when the pure need proof. Clean hands still leave fingerprints when pointing at truth. I’ve swallowed enough words to know what silence can chew. Bit my tongue till blood gave bitterness something to do. So purge me… But don’t wash away the dirt that taught roots how to grow. I don’t need spotless… I need room for my soul. Cleansing ain’t forgetting… It’s deciding what goes. What goes? Fuck a clone. Stillness blows like change knows. Knowing what’s known never grows without recognition of choice. Choosing loose… Like forbidden fruit. Serpent whispers inside sinful youth. Youthful choice with influencer noise. Same sound… That lights the fuse. Fuse lit… But what if the bomb was built from beliefs we mistook for our own? Inherited detonations. Generational codes written in bones. Homegrown hurt comfortable enough to call itself home. I housed resentment. Rented rooms to regret. Let guilt live free while forgiveness collected debt. Eviction notice. Get out. I’m renovating the wreck. Not erasing what happened… Reclaiming what’s left. What’s left? What’s left but a full cup? Glass shattered by what’s thrown past. Held claps. Pray for moments of the past. Writing blank notes like revelations crash. Masks worn of paper scraps. Picked apart… Piece by peace… With a laugh. Cashed out hysterically as hate turns mad. Madness made manageable, managed by masks made for the masses. Hand me the fragments… I’ll handle the glass. Cut palms prove I held too tightly to what should pass. Passed down. Passed around. Passed off as fact… Till fact fractures fiction and fiction fights back. So if hatred went mad… Let madness get angry. Let anger get honest. Let honesty ask… How much of this poison was poured in my cup? And how much did I add? Imaginary vision lets me see… So how much is scripted? Blood thick in water to make forever last. Blood thick inside never without a map. Magazines shape war with infantry talent. Malicious malice. Monster mindstate. Rapped with a casket. Biblical blasphemy spilling bad faith… Like love for God priced at the offering plate. Price tag… Priceless belief priced to belong. Offering plates collect change… While nobody asks what change becomes. Bought fear wholesale. Sold faith retail. Kept the receipt in case Heaven fails. Sale signs on salvation… Everything must go. But if everything goes… Who owns what’s left of my soul? What stays? … What stays beneath? Now that we can breathe… What stays beneath… Now that we can breathe? The same trees that held our wait… Now carry our song. Let it leave… Let it leave… What was never ours to keep. What stays beneath… Now that we can breathe? Walked paths with old feet… Creating new tracks that bleed. What speaks is what’s been purged once sound is heard. Silence hides our ghost as it stirs… Moving within life… As death glances… They dance… In the night. Now… It’s time. Life… In exchange… For life. Hands around our neck as we squeeze… The breath we see now disappears. A choice made. A delusion to follow confusion… To be free. Suffocation no longer struggles with greed. Breaths turn shallow… Echoing in seeds. Ideas die with sacred creed. Somber thoughts become comfort… Saturated in dream. Dreamt death dressed divine… Like dying to live was designed. But whose hands are these… Wrapped around our breath? Mine? Yours? Ours? Or inherited before we could see? … Release. Not the soul… The grip. Let fingers unfold from the fist. Maybe Life for Life was never debt. Maybe sacrifice… Is letting go. Breathe… Again. What if every breath we take… Is our first? Every time we let it leave… Life returns again. No beginning… No end… Nothing left to prove. Just breathe… Like breathing is the first thing you knew. What if every breath we take… Is our first breath? Original lyrics by THOUGHTAHOLIC (@d13ov04). Sound and production by THOUGHTAHOLIC & TENGÜRA. © 2026 THOUGHTAHOLIC & TENGÜRA | An Indiana-Istanbul collaboration.
