You wove a home from whispers and ache,

But paper folds can’t hold back the break.

I saw your mask slip in the storm’s embrace,

Raced through the dark to find your face. (find your face...)

Your name’s a flicker in the mist on my pane,

Each letter dissolves in the weight of the rain.

That bathtub remembers—stained in silence and flame,

So I’m here at your threshold, where the shadows take aim.

I’ll kneel in the silence, trace your pulse through the floor... (Breathe deep...)

If your heart’s keeping score.

When the air turns to iron, crushing your chest,

I’ll carve out a space where your lungs can find rest.

Your coat’s stained with crimson, but it’s not a disgrace—

It’s the map of your fight, every scar a trace.

If your smile’s just a veil, I’ll stand by its thread,

Hold the fragments of you ‘til they’re whole again instead. (whole again...)

Your origami house folds in the hush of the night,

Each crease holds a smile you forced into flight.

Let me raise you a haven—not of paper, but steel,

Where your heart can unbreak, where your soul can feel real.

The attic’s still weeping, but I’ll cradle its pain,

Sing your buried verses ‘til they rise through the rain.

You’re not drowning in air—I’ll be your tide’s pull,

Hold you like a promise, ‘til your spirit feels full. (promise...) (full...)

Your mascara’s a river, carved bold in the gale,

That umbrella you clutch? I’ll mend its frail sail.

I don’t seek perfection, just the truth in your eyes—

A cracked teacup’s still treasure, its gold never lies.

Let me gather your shards, let me hold them with care... (Hold you...)

You’re still there.

Every sigh’s a lament you didn’t mean to compose,

But your lungs hold a fire that nobody knows.

If the world drowned your voice, I’d dive for its spark,

Tune my heart to your rhythm, find your light in the dark.

I’ll breathe for you (breathe...)

When the air’s a knife.

Plunge through the flood,

Be the pulse of your life. (pulse...)

You’re not meant to fade in a soundless despair,

Not with songs in your veins, still burning the air. (burning the air...)

Your name’s not just shards—it’s a constellation’s glow,

Each piece a story the storm didn’t know.

Sunglasses off—let the probabilities blaze,

I’ll walk every “you” through the infinite maze.

That teacup’s no relic, it’s a heart forged in flame,

Gold’s not a mask—it’s the art of your name.

3… 2… 1… (Shout it out!)

You’re still here, still fierce, still rising through pain,

Not drowning, but swimming—rewriting the rain. (rewriting the rain...)

Your origami house hums in the depths of my soul,

Every fold tells the fight that made you whole.

Let me build you a fortress, stitched with beams of starlight,

Where your sleepless nights weave into dreams that take flight.

The attic’s not alone—it sings with your fire,

I’ll carry your echoes, lift your spirit higher.

You won’t drown in the air, not while I’m by your side,

I’ll sing you to shore, through the storm’s raging tide. (through the tide...) (breathe...) (soar...)

If you sink, I’ll dive deeper,

Raise you up like the sea lifts the dawn.

Brick by brick, we’ll rebuild what was torn,

‘Til your lungs find the rhythm they were always meant for.

When the bathtub whispers, I’ll sing louder still:

You’re not alone. (not alone...)

Not now. (never now...)