Arm Wrestle

(Intro)
I’ve been arm wrestling my fear
at a small table
inside my chest.
Elbow down.
Jaw tight.
Waiting for it to give.
I call this devotion.
(Verse 1)
I say I surrender.
I say I serve the truth.
If love is endless,
Why does it narrow inside me?
I decided fear must mean
I’m not there yet.
If I were awake enough
wouldn’t it be gone?
So I lean in.
I push back.
Spiritual strength training.
(Pre-Chorus)
Knuckles white with enlightenment.
I measure myself
against sensation.
As if trembling
were a verdict.
As if fear
were keeping score.
But look closely —
Who’s on the other side?
(DROP 1)
Loosen your grip —
no one’s on the other side.
Loosen your grip —
it’s your own hand in disguise.
Loosen your grip —
nothing here to win.
Just energy
moving through skin.
(Verse 2)
Fear isn’t mocking you.
It’s just sensation
with a story attached.
A pulse of electricity
looking for space.
Life never asked you
to defeat yourself.
There was no challenge issued.
No match scheduled.
You pulled up the chair.
(Pre-Chorus 2)
What if strength
isn’t overpowering the sensation
but staying present
while it moves?
Shoulders soften.
Breath widens.
The hand unclenches.
(DROP 2)
Open the hand —
no one’s on the other side.
Open the hand —
let the current run.
Open the hand —
nothing here to prove.
The match goes quiet.
The force softens.
(Bridge)
Can you love here too?
In the shaking.
In the wanting reassurance.
Tenderness
is strength without armor.
The table was imagined.
Underneath it —
just aliveness.
(Final Drop)
Open the hand.
You are both hands.
There is no opponent.
There never was one.
You were never being tested.
You were measuring yourself.
Only strength
remembering
its source.

Experimental, downtempo electronic, playful syncopation, groove, exciting drop beats, surprising lifts. Female vocals