[Intro] [almost silent] Not broken. Just left open. Breath still moving. [Verse 1] I didn’t lose you, I paused the repair. Stopped aligning edges that still held shape. The outline stayed warm, slightly misremembered, like something set down but not abandoned. [Pre-Chorus] No urgency to restore. No instruction to resolve. [Chorus] Don’t fix what still breathes. Don’t tighten what still shifts. I’m not healing. I’m not erased. Just left unsealed. [Verse 2] Your weight exited the room, but the pressure didn’t. Air keeps your measurements. I replay nothing intentional, and somehow it stabilizes. [Pre-Chorus] Too intact for collapse. Too present for recovery. [Chorus] Don’t fix what still breathes. Don’t polish the fracture. I’m not better. I’m still here. Quiet, but holding. [Bridge] [almost whispered] If this counts as damage, it’s slow. If this is loss, it’s cooperative. I don’t need closure mechanisms. I need unassigned space. [Final Chorus] Don’t fix what still breathes. Let it remain unfinished by design. I’m not broken by the pause. Still responsive. Still warm. [Outro] [almost silent] Unrepaired. Active. Alive.
