The Cost of Staying

[Verse 1] Streetlight leaking through the curtains now, you call it memory, I call it doubt. I quit naming what we turned into, those words went stale before they made it through. Your touch lands like it’s been here before, mine just learns how to want less more. Not a wreck, not reborn, just too used to dragging this on. [Pre-Chorus] Don’t frame me soft like something sacred, you don’t stay for what is naked. If this was love, it would leave a spark— this just flickers in the dark. [Chorus] This ain’t love, don’t paint it gold, it runs too cold, it holds too close. Still I wait, still I bend, circle back and call it sin. Name it static, name me lost, I’ve been living with the cost. This ain’t love, I know that much— still I don’t give it up. [Verse 2] Clockwork stories on a looped cassette, skip, then return like we never left. Your outline wears me like a borrowed skin, daylight knocks, I don’t let it in. No big dream, no clean cut, just little ruins dressed back up. If I go, what does that prove? So I blur and call it truth. [Pre-Chorus 2] Don’t pull that tone like you mean repair, I know the shape of almost-there. If this was love, it would want me whole— not just the pieces under control. [Chorus] This ain’t love, don’t paint it gold, sweet on the tongue, then iron-cold. Still I wait, still I turn, soft collapse with nowhere firm. Call it habit, call it fear, I quit asking why I’m here. This ain’t love, I know that much— still I don’t give it up. [Bridge] Let it hum, let it bite, torn wings still catch the light. Don’t clear the smoke, don’t fix it clean, I know this mess. It knows me. If I’m held, don’t cut me loose, this weight feels truer than the truth. [Final Chorus] This ain’t love, say it plain, love don’t bloom from this kind of stain. Still I stay, still I move, half undone, half bulletproof. If it decays, let it drop, I don’t need the story solved. This ain’t love—still, somehow, this is where I live right now.