Lyric

I kept my palm on the table

Like it could keep me home

The room was warm and familiar

But I had outgrown the walls

My fingers slipped from the doorway

From the cup I always knew

From the sleeve of who I was there

From the life I folded into

I had not said I was ready

I had not named the change

But my body knew the weather

Before my heart could explain

I reached for the old railing

Then loosened one small thread

Not because I was fearless

But because I was not dead

There is a way to go gently

There is a way to be scared

You do not have to be certain

To prove that you are there

Let go little by little

You are not losing your name

The hand that opens empty

Can hold something again

Step out soft and shaking

Let the cold air come through

You are allowed to tremble

And still belong to you

I left my hand from the curtain

From the chair beside the bed

From the stories that kept saying

Stay small enough to be safe

I touched the latch in the hallway

Felt the metal, felt the rain

And somewhere under my breathing

A small green thing remained

No one saw the beginning

No one heard the thread break

But a quiet life can open

From the smallest thing you take

Let go little by little

You are not losing your name

The hand that opens empty

Can hold something again

Step out soft and shaking

Let the cold air come through

You are allowed to tremble

And still belong to you

I was not running from love

I was not burning the door

I was only making room

For the self I had ignored

If the old world calls me back

I can bless it from the road

Some things are held with kindness

Some are loved and still let go

Let go little by little

You are not losing your name

The hand that opens empty

Can hold something again

Step out soft and shaking

Let the cold air come through

You are allowed to tremble

And still belong to you