For years I learned to hide my name.
For years I swallowed every flame.
This is the day I stop being small.
⸻
(Verse 1)
You taught me how to fold into the floor,
Told me doors were only there to lock more.
I counted nights by the echo of your voice,
Lived my life around your choice.
Hands like thunder, words like chains,
You kept me quiet, kept me tame.
But the quiet builds a storm inside,
And even broken things can rise.
⸻
(Pre-Chorus)
There’s a moment when fear runs out of room,
And the only sound left is the sound of you.
⸻
(Chorus)
I hurt you back and I felt the night break,
Took my life from the place you’d made.
You fell into silence, hands empty, face slack —
I walked out the door and I never looked back.
Years of bruises, I turned into fuel,
Broke every bar of your rusty rule.
I hurt you back — but I healed in the light,
This is my body, this is my life.
⸻
(Verse 2)
I kept the list of every time you lied,
Wore my patience like armor, taught myself to hide.
But patience is a wire, and it snaps when pulled,
I lit the fuse where your world was full.
You never thought I’d learn to fight,
Never thought I’d stand in my own light.
I’m not proud of the things I had to do,
But I’m done being broken for you.
⸻
(Pre-Chorus)
There’s a line you cross that you don’t expect,
When a quiet heart becomes a threat.
⸻
(Chorus)
I hurt you back and I felt the night break,
Took my life from the place you’d made.
You fell into silence, hands empty, face slack —
I walked out the door and I never looked back.
Years of bruises, I turned into fuel,
Broke every bar of your rusty rule.
I hurt you back — but I healed in the light,
This is my body, this is my life.
⸻
(Bridge — fierce, reflective)
I don’t sing this as a victory song for violence,
I sing it for the girl who learned defiance.
There’s no glory in pain that I returned,
Only the hush of a life newly earned.
Maybe someone will say it’s wrong,
Maybe they’ll measure me in black and white songs.
But they didn’t feel the nights I bled,
They didn’t hear the prayers I said.
⸻
(Breakdown — quiet, then building)
Silence after the storm — a different sound,
No more footsteps to make the heart pound.
The rooms breathe slow, the lights feel new,
The mirror shows someone I hardly knew.
⸻
(Final Chorus — big, cathartic)
I hurt you back and I watched the chains crack,
Took my life from the place you’d made.
You crumbled into quiet, the power you had went slack —
I shut the door and I never went back.
Years of bruises, I turned into fuel,
Tore down every corner of your cruel rule.
I hurt you back — then I learned to forgive,
But first I had to fight just to live.
⸻
(Outro — spoken, gentle)
I didn’t want this to be my story,
But it’s the one I own now.
I took my life back, piece by piece.
I’m finally breathing.
