If it’s real…
it doesn’t rush.

Never wrote this like a promise
never carved it into stone.
We kept quiet in the tension
where the truth learned how to grow.

All the noise kept circling us,
names we never tried to wear.
We were listening to silence
while they shouted everywhere.

We lost shape,
we lost timing,
still our bodies knew the way.
Every fracture found a rhythm,
every shadow learned to stay.

If it’s real, it stays
through the doubt, through the delay.
If it’s real, it stays
when the light learns how to fade.

Let them talk, let them bend it,
truth don’t crack under weight.
If it’s real, it stays.

We packed endings in our pockets,
said “this time” and turned around.
Every goodbye hit like weather,
every return without a sound.

Didn’t fit the frame they sold us,
didn’t shine the way they planned.
Still we kept the fire breathing
with our backs against the sand.

Not the fastest,
not the cleanest,
never perfect, never safe.
But the thing that keeps returning
isn’t scared of time or space.

If it’s real, it stays
through the fall, through the ache.
If it’s real, it stays
even when we hesitate.

Let them doubt, let them name it,
truth don’t fade when it waits.
If it’s real, it stays.

They said it burns too fast…
but we’re still here.

They said it wouldn’t last…
but we’re still here.

Not built to impress.
Not shaped to behave.
If it’s real
it stays.

If it’s real, it stays
after all the almost-breaks.
If it’s real, it stays
when the night outlives the day.

We’re still here,
standing in the wake.
What is real
don’t change.

Never perfect.
Never safe.
Still we chose it anyway.

If it’s real…
it stays.



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