Cut The Thread

I’ve carried things
I never meant to hold.
Let them build nests in my ribs,
let them chew at the place where hope should be.

But tonight…
I’m done letting shadows sleep in my chest.
Tonight something ends—
and it’s not me.

It always starts small.
One mistake.
One bruise you pretend isn’t there.
One thought you swear you’ll “deal with later.”

Later turns into years.
And years turn into weight.
Suddenly you’re moving through the world
like your bones owe something they never agreed to carry.

But cracks don’t heal by ignoring them.
Silence doesn’t fix a damn thing.
I learned that standing in the dark,
fingers shaking,
realizing the only person who could save me
was me.

I’ve walked too far
to let the ground swallow me.
Every bruise became a compass,
every hit taught me where not to stand.

Break the lock,
cut the thread,
let the weight fall off my chest.

Not running,
not hiding—
I’m ending this instead.

声が震えても
(Even if my voice shakes)
前に進むだけ
(I still move forward.)

Tonight,
something ends.

I’ve seen problems that grin
like they know how the story ends.
I’ve felt nights so heavy
I thought the sun forgot where I lived.

People say “stay strong”
like strength is a faucet.
Like you can twist it
and flood your pulse with courage.
It doesn’t work like that.

Some days strength is a whisper.
Some days it’s one breath.
Some days it’s sitting on the floor
and not giving up on yourself
even when no one’s watching.

And those days count the most.

切り裂け、影を
(Tear through the shadows)
闇は味方じゃない
(The darkness isn’t your ally)

心を縛る鎖
(The chains that bind your heart)
今、断ち切る
(Now—cut them through.)

足は震えてもいい
(Your legs may shake — that’s fine.)
止まらなければ勝ちだ
(If you don’t stop, you win.)

Break the lock,
cut the thread,
let the weight fall off my chest.

命を奪わせない
(I won’t let this steal my life.)

Not running,
not hiding—
I’m ending this instead.

Tonight,
something ends.

There were days I thought quitting
was the only door left open.
Days where breathing felt like debt
I didn’t want to pay.

But then I realized—
problems don’t want you to fight.
They want you tired,
quiet,
and convinced there’s no point.

That’s the lie.

When you push back—
even a little—
the whole shape of the world shifts.
Not all at once,
but enough to breathe again.

And breathing
is the start of every comeback.

I didn’t climb out clean—
I crawled,
dragged,
stumbled.

Kicked down walls
I used to think were permanent.
Scraped my knees raw
trying to reach a future
I wasn’t sure existed.

But I made it here
and I’m still pushing.

This is the part of the story
where the pain loses its grip.
Where the fear finally understands
I’m not stopping tonight.
Not now.
Not ever.

Break the lock,
cut the thread,
I’m stepping past what held me dead.

泣いてもいい
(Cry if you must)
でも止まるな
(Just don’t stop.)

I’m not running from anything—
I’m walking through it.

Tonight,
something ends.

道は曲がっても
(Even if the path twists)
光は消えない
(the light doesn’t disappear.)

傷の数だけ
(With every scar you carry)
強くなれる
(you grow stronger.)

Look—
I don’t want victory.
I don’t need a storybook finish.

I just want peace
that doesn’t feel borrowed.

I want mornings
that don’t start with a sigh.
I want nights
that don’t drag like chains.

And if I have to fight through hell
to carve out one place in this world
where I can breathe without flinching—
then that’s what tonight is for.

I’m not here to pretend I’m unbreakable.
I’m here because I refuse to stay broken.
Every scar is a sentence,
every bruise is a chapter,
and tonight I write the part
where I stop bending to things
that never deserved my silence.

I rise—
slow,
shaking,
but rising all the same.

The night is thinner now.
The air’s easier to breathe.

終わりじゃない
(This isn’t the end.)

Just the part
where weight finally lifts
and I take the first real step
into tomorrow.

Something ended tonight.
And it wasn’t me.