Breaking Point

You think this started with the system or the bruises or the violence. 
No. It started the day you realized you were alone in a room and nobody was coming to save you. Look at me. We need to talk.

Why do you show up when I’m weakest. Why do you drag up memories I buried and fears I carried and truths I never wanted to say out loud.

Because I was there. I saw your innocence crack. I saw silence swallow you whole. I saw the boy who held his breath because breathing made too much noise.

I was just a kid. I didn’t ask for chaos or fear or nights that felt like years.

But you lived them. You pretend you didn’t. You walk around like the past isn’t stitched into your skin, but I see it. I see everything.

I don’t want to talk about it.  
That’s why we’re talking.  
I don’t want to feel it again.  
That’s why you still feel it.  
I don’t want to break.  
You already did.  
Then why am I still standing.  
Because God held you up when you couldn’t.

Let’s talk about nights you clenched your fists just to feel something real. Let’s talk about fear you swallowed because speaking made you a target. Let’s talk about anger you carried because nobody carried you.

Stop. I don’t want to go back to that room. I don’t want to hear the echoes.

But the echoes made you. The darkness shaped you. The silence raised you. You were state raised, pain raised, fear raised, but God sustained.

Then why does it still hurt.

Because you never healed it. You survived it. There’s a difference.

Let’s talk about the rage. The nights you shook with it. The days you hid it. The years you pretended it wasn’t there.

I was a kid with no blueprint. No safe place. A kid who fought shadows because the real monsters were too close to name.

And you think that didn’t twist your wiring. Didn’t turn you into a man who expects every good thing to leave.

I’m trying to change. Trying to grow. Trying to be better.

Then stop lying to yourself. Stop acting like the past didn’t carve you open. Stop hiding the boy who still cries in the dark.

You want truth. Fine. I was scared. Lonely. Angry. Broken. A kid who needed someone to say I got you.

But nobody did. So I learned to get myself. Stand alone. Fight alone. Pray alone.

Maybe that’s why God kept me alive. Why I’m still breathing. Why I’m still here. He knew I’d turn pain into purpose, wounds into weapons, my story into a lifeline for someone drowning in silence.

Now you’re speaking. Now you’re becoming the man the boy inside you always needed.

This is where it starts. Not with trauma or fear. It starts the moment you faced me and said you were ready. Welcome to Mirror Talk.

rap, trap, hip hop, bluesy