The story behind this song
It's the morning after the worst of it. The letters are burned, the truth is kept, and the sky is finally clearing fast. For a long time she gave love and got scars, tried to mend someone else's broken parts, built a home on shifting sand. Now she's barefoot in the rain, washing it off — no more tears, no more chains.
Every crack and every line turned into the shape of something hers. The wreckage made a kind of art.
For anyone who rebuilt themselves quietly and found their own strength, their own voice, their own form again.
Lyrics
Tried to mend your broken parts
Built a home on shifting sand
Held the storm with open hands
And I won’t live inside the past
Washing off all of the pain
You left a mess, but I survived
I found myself, I’m still alive
The thunder’s gone, I’m safe, I’m warm
I’m rising up after the storm
I lost myself to loving you
But every crack and every line
Became the shape of something mine
Of healing every shattered part
No more tears, no more chains
The wreckage made a work of art
I carry light inside my heart
I found my strength, my voice, my form
I’m rising up after the storm
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