breath caught in cold air, a pause
dark clouds press, silence loud—no applause
hands shaking, mind racing where no light crawls
but i'll stand, even when the world falls
fingers trace cracks in the pavement, stories written by scars
windows boarded tight, hiding distant stars
whispers chase my shadow down alleyways, bitter and long
mouth dry, heart heavy, carrying what felt all wrong
bills stacking like the doubts piled thick inside my head
echoes of promises, broken, left unsaid
the nights swallowed whole, dreams flickered then died
falling but not fading, truth i’ve come to find
every step's a question wrapped in cold night’s skin
but faith flickers faint, a stubborn spark within
not about the drop, but where i find my ground
when the world fades out, still i hear the sound
it’s not the fall that breaks me, but the climb that shapes me
the hands that hold tight when the ground escapes me
i’m rising from the bottom, from ashes and refusal
not the fall, not the fall, but the rise—my renewal
streets spill memories like rain on cracked glass
faces blur, but some truths remain steadfast
a father’s voice in the dark, a sister’s late call
fragments of love holding steady through it all
stepping through flames, each scar a badge, not a chain
lost nights, cold fights, lessons born from pain
the choir of doubt tried to drown out my song
but the weaker the chorus, the clearer i’m strong
wounds that open wounds, yet still i walk the line
each fall a chapter not the headline
the ground may tremble, the night hold sway
but each dawn’s crown demands i stay
it’s not the fall that breaks me, but the climb that shapes me
the hands that hold tight when the ground escapes me
i’m rising from the bottom, from ashes and refusal
not the fall, not the fall, but the rise—my renewal
hold me not for who i was, but who i’m made to be
a fighter forged in shadows, reaching past what eyes can see
the weight that bent me, broke me, now bends towards the sky
fall was only the usher, now watch me fly
it’s not the fall that breaks me, but the climb that shapes me
the hands that hold tight when the ground escapes me
i’m rising from the bottom, from ashes and refusal
not the fall, not the fall, but the rise—my renewal
cold wind fades, dawn breaks through fractured night
bruised but breathing, stepping into light
not the fall, but the rise, the story i claim
from broken ground, i rise—never the same
