Reddome | ALL THESE VOICES

Reddome

I’ve been swimming in a jar,
yeah—glass around my skin.
Every breath I try to take
comes back heavy, caving in.

I keep clawing for a surface
that’s not even really there.
Hold my chest between my hands,
feel the panic in the air.

There’s a boy I keep on dragging,
he’s been drowning under me.
And I fake my way through daylight
just to keep him out of reach.

I can’t breathe—
not underwater, not in here.
I’ve been swallowing my heartbeat
just to look like I’m sincere.

I can’t breathe—
and it’s pulling at my spine.
If I’m shaking, let me tremble.
If I’m breaking,
that’s still mine.

People say I’m overthinking,
but they never felt this weight.
Try explaining how your ribs
learned the language of escape.

Every morning tastes like metal,
every night I come undone.
I’ve been quiet for a lifetime—
silence cuts more than a gun.

There’s a boy I keep on dragging,
he's been begging just to breathe.
But I learned to hide his shaking
like a trick inside my sleeve.

___________________________

Esta faixa é uma obra original de Luan Barbosa.
Todos os direitos autorais e conexos estão reservados.
Qualquer reprodução, edição, sample, distribuição ou uso comercial, total ou parcial, sem autorização expressa do autor, é estritamente proibido.

I can’t breathe—
not underwater, not in here.
I’ve been holding in a hurricane
just to make it disappear.

I can’t breathe—
but the pressure makes me rise.
If I’m splintering, then let me—
it’s the first thing
that feels right.

I’ve been gasping in slow motion,
smoking in a spacesuit I outgrew.
Every crack along my armor
lets the truth come leaking through.

I can breathe—
not the pretty kind they want.
Not the calm, collected version
I performed to stay intact.

I can breathe—
and the breaking made me see:
I’m still fighting.
I’m still rising.
There is something left of me.

I can breathe.
I can breathe.
Finally—
I'm not scared of me.