👇Follow Draxelle on YouTube! 👇 www.youtube.com/@iamdraxelle [Verse 1] You still speak to the version of me that stayed in that room too long. I rearranged the architecture quietly you didn’t notice the walls were gone. No dramatic exit. No shattered glass. Just a chair slightly moved, and you sitting in the past. [Pre-Chorus] You wait for a reaction. Something loud enough to feel like control. But silence isn’t empty. It’s deliberate. [Chorus] I’m out of reach not missing. No longer translating myself into something you can hold. You call it distance. I call it proportion. You didn’t lose me. You lost access. [Verse 2] You wanted friction. A collision to justify the tension. But I don’t break for emphasis. I shift the lens. What you read as retreat was refinement. What you named cold was clarity. [Verse 3] You still try to map me with old coordinates, as if I hadn’t tilted the axis of what I tolerate. You measure closeness in volume and heat. I measure it in equilibrium. [Pre-Chorus] You look for cracks like proof of relevance. The surface stays intact. [Final Chorus] I’m out of reach not fragile. Just tuned beyond your frequency. You reach for heat. I lower the voltage. This isn’t rejection. It’s recalibration. [Outro] You tried to hold who I was. I moved ahead before you noticed. Out of reach is growth without announcement.
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