A breeze, familiar, brushed my skin—
A ghost I thought was caged within.
It sparked the fall, the tear, the doubt,
The shame I tried to live without.
Why now, from you, this aching thread?
Have I become what once I fled?
I walked on eggshells, played it smart,
Yet here I stand—back at the start.
Jul 27, 2025
Jul 27, 2025 at 3:24 AM UTC
A breeze, familiar, brushed my skin—
A ghost I thought was caged within.
It sparked the fall, the tear, the doubt,
The shame I tried to live without.
Why now, from you, this aching thread?
Have I become what once I fled?
I walked on eggshells, played it smart,
Yet here I stand—back at the start.
https://open.spotify.com/track/62JPi629msUv8wotWAChOY?si=fa2992d465434820
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