Lyrics

Something is ending…
before I know its name.

I can feel old versions fading
like perfume inside a room.
Shapes I wore to survive
loosening in the blue.

There are voices in the hallway,
echoes underneath my skin—
not ghosts, not strangers,
just every place I’ve been.

I am standing at the threshold
between becoming and release.

Somewhere between who I was
and who I’m learning to be,
there’s a veil between selves
moving softly through me.

Not broken.
Not reborn.
Just shifting like the tide—
a thousand quiet deaths
making space for life.

I used to fear the dissolving,
the loss of what I knew.
But every ending carried
a hidden passage through.

The mirror doesn’t hold me
the way it did before.
My reflection keeps expanding
beyond the visible shore.

Every identity I buried
left light beneath the ground.

Somewhere between who I was
and who I’m learning to be,
there’s a veil between selves
moving softly through me.

Not shattered.
Not complete.
Just opening slowly—
like the night becoming morning
without needing to speak.

Maybe transformation
doesn’t happen all at once.

Maybe the soul
changes shape quietly,
while the world still thinks
you are the same.

Maybe becoming
is softer than fire.

Somewhere between all my endings
and every unseen beginning,
there’s a veil between selves
lifting gently in the wind.

And I no longer fear
what disappears in me—
because every vanished version
made more room to breathe.

I am not losing myself…
I am shedding what cannot follow.