🌙 Stream more from Suzu 🎶Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/1eaeNCif3f2azlABk5kAdN?si=qMAt4XnDR8eCtPDZdVftAQ 🎵YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC4HOkCsEUTSfAl_5Cr8aw6Q/ ✨Linktree (all platforms & updates): https://linktr.ee/Suzu_Records [Intro] Just let me talk. [Verse 1] They ask me how I’m doin’, I say, “I’m cool,” and that’s efficient. Not a lie, just incomplete I learned to speak in omissions. Truth don’t always fit inside a casual exchange. People want updates, not context, so I shorten the pain. I used to overexplain, thought honesty meant detail. Now I keep it light enough that nobody feels frail. I don’t cry in public, don’t vent on the beat. I just organize the damage so it sounds like peace. They say, “You look better,” I nod like I agree. What they mean is I’m quieter, less inconvenient to see. I didn’t fix the problem, I fixed how it appears. I learned how to stand upright while my chest caves in. [Verse 2] Everybody loves progress, especially from a distance. Before and after pictures, they don’t ask what’s missing. Nobody stays for the middle where you’re stable but stuck. Not broken enough to save, not healed enough to call it luck. I don’t miss the chaos, I don’t miss the nights. But calm feels like a setup when you’ve lived in a fight. Silence makes room for questions I don’t feel like answering. So I keep the TV on low, let the noise do the parenting. I got routines now, sleep on time, eat my meals. On paper, I’m fine still don’t know what I feel. They call that “growth,” I call it adaptation. Same pain, new posture, better presentation. [Hook] I don’t feel good. That’s not the point. I learned to function without the noise. No healing arc, no victory lap. I’m not “better,” I adapted to that. Don’t clap for me, I didn’t ascend. I just stayed standing where most of y’all bend. [Verse 3] They love the word “healed,” ’cause it makes them comfortable. Means I won’t remind ’em that the system’s still surgical. They want a clean ending, something they can repost. If I’m still carrying weight, then who the fuck do they toast? Don’t tell me “choose joy” like I didn’t earn my doubt. Like my brain didn’t learn survival by shutting feelings out. You call it negativity, I call it pattern recognition. I didn’t wake up broken I woke up paying attention. Y’all romanticize recovery, sell it like it’s a brand. Before and after captions, no middle to understand. You don’t want the truth, you want progress you can digest. So I stay quiet on purpose ’cause honesty makes you restless. [Hook] I don’t feel good. That’s not the point. I learned to function without the noise. No healing arc, no victory lap. I’m not “better,” I adapted to that. Don’t clap for me, I didn’t ascend. I just stayed standing where most of y’all bend. [Verse 4] I don’t talk about trauma ’cause it turns into content. People love your story long as it’s well digested. But the truth is messy, doesn’t land in a quote. So I keep it folded up in the back of my throat. I’m not angry anymore, I’m just alert all the time. Like my nervous system never got the memo we’re fine. They say, “You’re strong,” but they don’t mean resilient. They mean I don’t make my pain a shared experience. I carry it quietly, that’s what they reward. You only get applause when your suffering’s orderly. [Outro] No cure. No applause. I didn’t win, I just didn’t fall apart where you could see it. If this is “healed,” don’t sell it to me. It still hurts I just stopped asking who’s supposed to care. Turn the lights off. Leave the beat running. I’ll be right here when the noise comes back.
