I lived.
But something else did too.

I used to think surviving meant escape
Like if I made it through, it’d fade
But some nights still sit in the chair
Like they paid rent, like they belong there
Scars don’t close, they memorize
Every sound, every sign
I don’t flinch, I don’t fold
I just learned what follows you home

I kept waiting for the end of it
Turns out it kept me instead

What didn’t kill me stayed
It learned my face
It says my name
When the room gets quiet late
What didn’t kill me stayed
I got out alive
But it moved inside
Yeah what didn’t kill me stayed

I don’t fight it, I don’t feed it
I just measure how I breathe with it
Pain got manners, waits its turn
Shows up when the lights go dim
I built strength out of holding weight
Not pretending it evaporates
Some things leave, some rearrange
Some survive right next to faith

I don’t hate it
I don’t praise it
I just know what it demands
Every step I take forward
It’s still holding my hand

What didn’t kill me stayed (still here)
It learned my face (don’t hide)
It says my name
When the room gets quiet late
What didn’t kill me stayed (inside)
I got out alive
But it moved inside
Yeah what didn’t kill me stayed

Survival isn’t the end.
It’s the roommate.