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https://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/97fead75a0733de920d5122a9d1bf51d.mp3
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痛Pain
I keep counting ceiling cracks
‘Cause looking down still hurts
Coffee’s cold
My phone is full
Of things I won’t return
I wear your name in tiny scars
On places you won’t see
Acting fine in checkout lines
While something breaks in me
Pain
Like splinters in my hands
Too small to show
Too sharp to stand
I say I’m good
I joke
I grin
But it’s wearing through my skin
Pain
It colors every plan
Turns soft summer into sand
I keep walking like I planned
With splinters in my hands
All our photos on one drive
One click and they’re all gone
Still I type your name at night
Then turn the laptop off
My friends talk about their new lives
I nod and check the time
They don’t see the quiet war
Between my heart and spine
Pain
Like splinters in my hands
Too small to show
Too sharp to stand
I say “I’m good
”I joke
I grin
But it’s wearing through my skin
Pain
It colors every plan
Turns soft summer into sand
I keep walking like I planned
With splinters in my hands
One day this ache might learn my name (oh)
Turn from storm into a stain
But I’m still here inside this frame
Trying not to come apart again
Pain
Like splinters in my hands
Too small to show
Too sharp to stand
I say “I’m good
”but every breath
Still tastes a little close to death
Pain
It colors every plan
Turns soft summer into sand
I keep moving ‘cause I can
With splinters in my hands