I memorized the sound of your goodbye
Like it was scripture I had to keep
Replaying every word you said
Like the fault was mine to reap
I’ve been walking on a wire of “almost”
Balancing blame and disbelief
Holding onto what we were
Like letting go means losing me
But every ghost I keep inside
Still whispers I should run and hide
Fear doesn’t stop death—it stops life
It keeps me chained to what wasn’t right
Turns every open door into a crime
Makes love feel like a warning sign
Fear doesn’t stop death—it stops life
And I’m tired of living half-alive
I built a fortress out of distance
Swore I’d never feel that sting
Every promise sounds like thunder
Every touch, a loaded spring
But these walls are getting heavy
And I’m suffocating slowly
If I guard what’s left of my heart
There’s no room for it to grow
I let one fracture change my view
Like broken glass was all that’s true
Fear doesn’t stop death—it stops life
It paints every shadow as a knife
Turns every chance into a fight
Makes trust feel like a losing side
Fear doesn’t stop death—it stops life
And I won’t let it steal what’s mine
I won’t let one chapter
Write the rest of me
I won’t let one fracture
Define what I can be
If I close my hands forever
I’ll never hold the light
So I’m opening my fingers
Even if they shake tonight
Fear doesn’t stop death—it stops life
It keeps old wounds fresh in my mind
But I refuse to let that night
Turn every sunrise black and white
Fear doesn’t stop death—it stops life
And I choose to be alive