(verse)
It was one pill. White. Round.
She handed it over while music drowned.
I paid. I smiled. It seemed routine—
Just another night in the same old scene.
I figured we’d take it, ride the high—
That’s what you do. That’s why you buy.
But you didn’t. You held yours back.
And right then, I knew something cracked.
(pre-chorus)
You said it might clash with my meds,
That I’d be at risk inside my head.
But I’d mixed them before—I was calm, I was clear.
That wasn’t care. That was masked fear.
(chorus)
I would’ve forgiven you, Jesse,
Even if it was your choice.
Even if you meant to end it—
If you told me with your voice.
If you said you felt the weight,
But couldn’t handle seeing me break—
That would’ve meant something.
That would’ve been brave.
But you never took yours.
And I wasn’t saved.
(verse)
I told you it’d been forty minutes—
And that’s when your whole face shifted.
You did the math and lost control,
'Cause time was up—and now you’d sold
A story you couldn’t undo.
The mask slipped. The panic flew through.
Was it guilt or just regret
That what you'd done was taking effect?
(pre-chorus)
You claimed it was about my dose—
The meds, the mix, some overdose.
But we both know your habits well,
And you don’t say no unless you smell
Something deeper. Something planned.
Something you couldn’t unhand.
(chorus)
I would’ve forgiven you, Jesse,
Even if your hands weren’t clean.
If you’d said, “I thought I wanted out,”
And told me what that meant to mean.
Even poison can feel like truth
If it's poured with tears instead of proof.
But you never spoke. You just stood still.
And I was breaking—against your will.
(bridge)
Did you think you'd get more time?
That I'd delay, or miss the sign?
Did the party end too soon—
Or did your doubt become my tomb?
You knew. You knew.
Whatever excuse you're selling—
I'm not the fool you're telling.
(final chorus – softer but sharper)
I would’ve forgiven you, Jesse,
Even if you'd meant me harm.
If you’d looked me in the eyes
And let me see your disarmed heart.
If you said, “I fucked up bad—
I thought I could, but I just… I had…”
I would’ve held your shaking shame.
But you chose silence. And I took the blame.
(outro / final verse – last words)
It won’t rewrite what’s already done—
But don’t you dare pretend you’re numb.
Did you just slip—let the dark get loud,
or was I marked before the crowd?
wWas it weakness, or design?
wWere you torn—or was I just timed?
wI need to know. I deserve to know.
wIf there’s any piece of a human left—
wThen show me so.
