Abused [Version 11]

(Intro) I wake up and… I don’t know, it just hurts weird today. Feels like someone pressed pause on my chest but forgot to unpause me. The room’s too bright and too dark at the same time. [Verse 1] I wake — same ache — yeah, nothing new, lungs full of dust or some muddy brew. The morning grabs me by the sleeve, pulls me forward while I drag my feet. The mirror shows me a face half-known, like a sketch someone drew but left undone. Hours crawl by like I’m stuck in glue, people pass through me like I’m see-through. If I try to keep pace, I fall behind — so I quit running. I don’t mind. [Verse 2] You raise your voice and I fold on cue, my spine gives in like it always knew. You don’t leave marks where the eyes can land, but the hurt still settles like sinking sand. I keep my hands neatly at my side, afraid you’ll twist the smallest sign. I let you win before you fight — keeps the room from burning bright. It feels pathetic, yeah, I agree — but it’s the quiet that lets me breathe. [Pre-Chorus] I’m not broken — not fully, not yet, just fraying slow where the edges get wet. [Chorus] I’m hurting in a room no eyes can find, like a page torn out and left behind. I hold your weight so you stay whole, shrink myself small to carry your soul. If love is work, I’ve paid my due — maybe too much for what I knew. Now standing feels harder than falling in place — collapse is the comfort I shouldn’t embrace. [Verse 3] My friends say “you look fine, you’re good,” ’cause I laugh too sharp like a splintered wood. Pain looks calm when you practice the act, masking cracks with a joke too fast. I rush my words, cut thoughts in half, so no one sees where the shadows stack. They say “man up,” like it’s some design — but the blueprint’s missing from my mind. I scream inside where the sound can’t spill, stuck behind teeth held tight and still. [Verse 4] You say you’re trying — maybe it’s true — but storms still leak through the walls you use. I stitch your wounds while mine seep red, patching up words that you never said. You twist my silence into some blame, I take the fall just to keep you sane. I’ve got a door but the knob feels cold, my hand freezes before I’m bold. So I stay put in the bruise you made — love or fear, the lines both fade. [Hook] I bite my tongue till it tastes like rust, if I speak once, you call it mistrust. I hold my breath so you won’t ignite, my ribs shake loose in the dead of night. You shed a tear — scene flips on cue, suddenly I’m the threat to you. “Stay strong,” they say, “don’t fall, stand tall,” but strength means nothing if you’re not whole at all. I hide the marks that the light won’t show, quiet cuts where no colors grow. If I dropped your name in a truth-filled line, they’d laugh it off like it’s not my crime. So I swallow noise and call it peace, pretend my spine is mine at least. If pain’s the proof that I exist — guess I’m alive through every twist. [Final Chorus] I’m hurting in a place no one inspects, a scribbled line where the page rejects. I keep the truth beneath my ribs, so you can dream your cleaner scripts. If freedom costs the love we made, then maybe I’m the one afraid. But when your shadow pulls me down… I whisper low — I’m still around. Just not the me you used to know. (Outro) I’m still here… just not… whole.