歌詞

Rain drawing slower against the glass

Blue light leaning through the room

I let myself in, but nothing settles

The margin still moves like it remembers you

Keys on the table, jacket on the chair

Small sounds landing in the dark

Everything is where I left it

But not the part that made this home

I used to think it was the walls

The hallway glow, the bed, the door

But now the silence feels unfamiliar

Like it doesn't know my name anymore

You were never just someone I loved

You were the noise in me when it got too quiet

Where my hands unclenched

Where the night stopped pushing back

Home was you

Not the room, not the street, not the light

Just the way my whole body softened

When you were there

Beside me

Home was you

I didn't know it until you were gone

Now every corner holds its breath

And nothing lets me all the way in

The city shines after the rain

Sidewalks slick with broken color

I take the long way without meaning to

Like my body still expects your shadow

A train pulls through the station slow

Someone laughs from half a block away

I keep walking like I have somewhere to be

But all my old directions end in you

I pass the store where we used to stop

That corner where you pulled me close for nothing

Nothing happens, nobody calls my name

Still something in me turns toward it

Maybe that's the worst part

How natural it was

How I kept calling it my life

When really it was just life with you in it

Home was you

In the quiet way you made space for me

In the breath between words

In the calm I never learned on my own

Home was you

And now the night has nowhere to land

I come back tired, I come back empty

And every room stays slightly out of reach

Maybe love isn't what stays

Maybe it's the shape it leaves behind

The place your body learned to rest

The name your silence answered to

I don't miss you loudly

It isn't that kind of hurt

It's quieter than that

More like reaching for something in the dark

And finding air where warmth used to be

I still come home and pause sometimes

Like some part of me expects relief

Like the door might open into that old feeling

Of not having to hold myself together

But the room is just a room now

The bed is just a bed

And these walls don't know how to keep me

The way you did without trying

Home was you

Even now I can barely say it straight

Like if I speak too clearly

It'll turn into something final

Home was you

And maybe some part of me still lives there

In the hush after midnight

In the rain going soft against the window

I turn off the lights, stand still in the blue-dark room

And for a second

I almost believe

There's still somewhere in this world

That knows how to hold me

Home was you