Jelly in my Head

The voices in my head don’t joke, but they laugh, They’re like, “Girl, you know you’re not good enough.” Thoughts in my belfry like some crazy old fuckin’ bats Swallow that pill, bitch, we know it’s tough! Hey sweetheart... You really think they care about your pain? You write all these pretty little rhymes, But you still wake up the same. I’m trying, okay? I’m just...I’m doing my best “Your best?” Oh please, your best’s a mess. You cry in parking lots, then call it progress. You drown your doubts in playlists and prayer, But we’re the ones still living up there. I’m not your puppet, I’m not your friend, You’re just noise that won’t ever end. I’ve been crawling through glass, Just to find who I am So shut your mouth I’ve had all I can stand! Oh, how poetic, the broken girl bites back. You wear pain like fashion trauma chic in black. You think healing’s a song? That lyrics fix the scar? Sweetheart, you’re not brave... You’re just playing a part. Is there jelly in my head? Are they talkin’ out their ass? I swear my brain’s a circus and I’m stuck backstage, last. Ringmaster got jokes, but I’m not amused, Tryna patch up my soul with some store-brand glue. I don’t wanna hear it anymore, The whispers through the static and the locked-up doors. They say I’m crazy, maybe they’re right, But at least I still show up to fight. Oh, the laughter cuts deep, like glass Is there jelly in my head, or are they talkin’ out their ass? Yeah, my mirror got opinions, she don’t ever shut up, She’s like, “Fix your hair, fix your face, fix your luck.” But I’m tired of being quiet, tired of the act, I’m done with playing therapist to my panic attacks. I been choking on my thoughts like cheap champagne, Every bubble pops ... another drop of pain. They say, “Girl, don’t cry, you’ll mess your face.” But I wear my tears like war paint with some fucking grace! You ever sit in the dark and feel like your skull’s an apartment complex? And every damn thought’s got rent control? They never leave They just argue, rearrange the furniture, And laugh while you clean up their mess. Yeah. That’s me. Open house for insanity. I don’t wanna hear it anymore, The whispers through the static and the locked-up doors. They say I’m crazy, maybe they’re right, But I still keep my heart in the fight. Oh, the laughter cuts deep, but it don’t last Is there jelly in my head, or are they talkin’ out their ass? The voices don’t joke, but they laugh. And maybe… that’s enough. Because if I can laugh too... Then maybe I win. Maybe I am. Maybe I’m just pretending not to break. But at least I pretend! At least I wake up, and I scream, and I fight Even when you’re still here. Even when you whisper. Even when you laugh. I’m not your silence, I’m not your shame, I’m the fire in the chaos you tried to tame. You live rent-free, but I own this place, And I’m painting over every trace. So talk your trash, go on, laugh, I’ll turn your venom into art and wrath. Is there jelly in my head? Fuck!... Maybe, yeah But it’s mine. And I’ll live there. We’ll be back... Yeah. I know. I’ll be waiting