Verse 1
I used to say it like a name,
Like it explained me, like a claim,
“I don’t sleep, that’s who I am,”
Like night and I had made a plan.
But lying there with eyes open wide,
I heard that story from inside.
Chorus
I’m not my sleep, I’m not the lack,
Not the name I keep intact,
Awake is here, but that’s okay—
It doesn’t get to choose my day.
When I drop the role I play,
The night gets quieter that way.
Verse 2
The body heard what I declared,
Stayed alert, stayed well-prepared,
Every label set the tone,
Told the dark I wasn’t alone.
But wakefulness doesn’t need a face,
Doesn’t need a home or place.
Chorus
I’m not my sleep, I’m not the strain,
Not the story in my brain,
This is happening, that is true,
But it doesn’t belong to “who.”
When the claiming falls away,
Even night can feel okay.
Bridge
Names have weight, they tilt the floor,
Keep the body at the door,
Drop the name, not what is here,
And notice how the room feels clear.
Final Chorus
I’m not my sleep, I’m not the fight,
Not the watcher of the night,
Whether rest comes late or soon,
I don’t owe the dark a tune.
When I stop defending “me,”
The body rests more honestly.
Outro
Awake…
without a name.
