Riptide

(Intro (soft piano / distant vocal layer))

How am I supposed to ask you

to be both what I’m afraid of

and my safety?

(Verse 1)

I’ve been a second choice,

I’ve been an afterthought.

How am I meant to stand

at the top of my pillar now

when I’ve never been

at the top of anything?

(Build)

Medicated reassurance doesn’t work,

I can’t even trust myself.

How am I supposed to be your solace,

be your ecstasy,

when I’m so quiet

in the storms inside of me?

(Chorus (Hook Version))

It always feels like I’m gasping,

always feels like I’m gasping.

I love you — but I loved him,

I don’t know what that makes me.

How are you supposed to be

what I’m afraid of

and my safety?

What I’m afraid of

and my safety.

How am I supposed to be your solace,

be your ecstasy,

when I’m so quiet

in the storms inside of me?

It always feels like I’m gasping,

always feels like I’m gasping.

(Verse 2 (low instrumentation))

That part of me is running

against a riptide,

dissociation pulling me further.

I hope I don’t hurt you

with what I might do

with my fears.

It’s not your fault —

it’s just what it is.

(Break (near silence / layered whisper vocal))

I wish you could’ve met who I was

before the freedom

and the faith

was beat out of me.

(Final Chorus (bigger ending))

It always feels like I’m gasping,

always feels like I’m gasping.

If you can be both my terror

and my safety,

maybe I’ll finally learn

how to breathe.

It always feels like I’m gasping…

until I breathe.

(Outro (fade))

I’m still learning

how to breathe.