Verse 1

I kept the curtains closed for months, the morning lost its name

Whispers lived between the walls and folded up my frame

I learned to make my silence small, afraid to wake the past

So I carried all my heavy nights until they finally passed

Chorus

But I’m learning how to breathe again, letting daylight trace my skin

Picking up the ordinary—soft moments pull me in

One small step outside the dark, one quiet promise made

I’m not the same, but I’m alive, and I’m slowly coming back again

Verse 2

I make a cup and watch the steam write little prayers into the air

Walk the same slow streets I left, notice faces, notice care

There are songs that find me honest now, and windows that won’t shout

There’s comfort in the little things that teach me how to be without

Chorus

But I’m learning how to breathe again, letting daylight trace my skin