ANYTHING

(“now I don’t feel anything”)

Verse 1

I used to break like thunder

every time the world got loud,

every word you threw at me

hit harder than the last.

But something in me flickered,

then something in me snapped—

and now the part that used to care

is never coming back.

Pre‑Chorus

I’m not numb, I’m not frozen,

I’m just done being open.

You took everything I had

and called it nothing.

Chorus

Now I don’t feel anything—

not the push, not the pull, not the sting.

You can scream, you can claw, you can cling,

but I’m gone, I’m gone, I’m gone.

I don’t feel anything.

I don’t break, I don’t bend, I don’t bleed.

You can try, but you’ll never get in.

I’m a ghost in my own skin—

and I don’t feel anything.

Verse 2

I used to drown in silence,

choking on the things unsaid.

You kept digging deeper

like you wanted me dead.

But I built a wall of static,

wired tight around my chest—

and now your voice is nothing

but an echo I forget.

Pre‑Chorus

I’m not lost, I’m not hiding,

I’m just done with the fighting.

You pushed every part of me

past the point of lightning.

Chorus

Now I don’t feel anything—

not the push, not the pull, not the sting.

You can scream, you can claw, you can cling,

but I’m gone, I’m gone, I’m gone.

I don’t feel anything.

I don’t break, I don’t bend, I don’t bleed.

You can try, but you’ll never get in.

I’m a ghost in my own skin—

and I don’t feel anything.

Bridge

Maybe that’s survival.

Maybe that’s the price.

Maybe feeling nothing

is better than your lies.

Maybe I’m the ruins

you never thought I’d be—

but ruins still stand

when the fire leaves.

Final Chorus

Now I don’t feel anything—

and it’s the first time I can breathe.

You can try to pull me back into the ring,

but I’m done, I’m done, I’m done.

I don’t feel anything.

I don’t break, I don’t bend, I don’t bleed.

You can try, but you’ll never get in.

I’m a ghost in my own skin—

and I don’t feel anything.