Shatteredwake: The Weight Of Waking Up

Lyrics: [Verse] I woke up before the alarm again. Stared at the ceiling. Waited for a reason to move. Nothing came. The room looked exactly the same as yesterday. The chair in the corner. The half-empty glass. The clothes I never put away. I remember when mornings felt different. I remember wanting things. Now every day arrives wearing the same face. And I keep pretending I know how to greet it. [Chorus] The weight of waking up gets heavier every year. I carry it from room to room. I carry it through every conversation. I carry it home. There was a time I thought it would pass. Now I'm not so sure. [Verse] My phone lit up three times today. I watched the screen. Then turned it over. I couldn't explain what was wrong. Not because I didn't want to. Because I wouldn't know where to start. How do you describe the feeling of slowly disappearing while everybody else keeps moving? How do you explain that nothing terrible happened, and somehow that makes it worse? [Chorus] The weight of waking up gets heavier every year. The colours fade. The voices blur. The things I loved feel further away than they ever should. And I don't know how to find them again. [Verse] I looked into the mirror this evening. Something felt missing. Not dramatic. Not sudden. Just gone. Like a photograph left in the sun too long. The outline remains. The details disappear. I keep searching for the person who used to live behind my eyes. Sometimes I think I see him. Most days I don't. [Chorus] The weight of waking up gets heavier every year. I am tired of measuring progress by how well I hide it. Tired of saying I'm fine. Tired of waiting for a version of myself that never walks through the door. [Bridge] Maybe this is what exhaustion becomes. Not pain. Not panic. Just distance. A slow drifting from everything that once felt close. I don't want answers anymore. I don't want miracles. I just want one morning that doesn't feel like something I have to survive. [Chorus] The weight of waking up gets heavier every year. But somewhere beneath the noise, beneath the fatigue, beneath everything I've lost, a small part of me still refuses to vanish. I don't know why. I only know it's there. [Outro] There is still a light I cannot see. There is still a name I haven't forgotten. There is still a reason I haven't found. And for tonight, that will have to be enough.