Versions

[Verse 1] I woke up already mid-apology —but I can’t remember what for. There were too many thoughts and not enough bodies so I tore myself into manageable chunks. (Didn’t work.) Now I’m bleeding in six different directions and none of them know who pulled the trigger. [Pre-Chorus 1] I tried smiling like they used to. (That didn’t fit.) I tried crying like someone else. (Too staged.) So I just stared at the floor and hoped the silence would finish writing the line I couldn't. [Refrain 1] “It’s okay if I don’t make sense—” That’s what I used to say before I became the punchline to a joke no one was brave enough to laugh at. [Verse 2] Someone said I used to be beautiful. They must’ve meant one of the others. I think she liked flowers. Another one only liked scissors. They never spoke to each other— except when I was trying to sleep. [Bridge] The mirror never lied. It just showed me all of us and let me pick who I wanted to pretend to be today. Sometimes it was the quiet one. Sometimes it was the one who bled right. Sometimes it was the one who wrote songs just to hear herself cry. And sometimes… it was all of us. Stacked. Layered. Screaming through the same smile. [Refrain 2] H-U-R-T I carved it out in silence. Healed it over with static. Lied about it with a chorus. Called it "Not Faking" and hoped that made it real. [Build] There’s no moral here. Just pages stuck together from too much rewriting. Every time I said “I’m fine,” another one of me died. [Final Chorus] Maybe I’m still dying. Maybe that’s what this voice is— just the last scream echoing from an empty stage where the cast already took their final bow. But if you’re listening— if you ever were— just know this: I couldn’t carry all of me. So I wrote this instead.