She stood in front of the mirror. Didn’t recognize herself. Not because her face had completely changed. But because her eyes had. Her eyes looked tired. Not sleepy. Tired. The kind of tired that comes from fighting a war that nobody else can see. She touched the mirror. And whispered, “Girl… what happened to you?” Silence. She looked at herself again. “I used to have plans.” Silence. “I used to laugh.” Silence. “I used to love waking up.” Silence. “I used to be somebody.” And that’s when the tears came. Because deep down, she knew the truth. She hadn’t lost herself overnight. She had been giving herself away one decision at a time. One excuse. One secret. One lie. One promise. One more time. One more night. One more escape. Until one day, she woke up and realized she had become the person she kept promising she would never become. And the scariest thought wasn’t, “I need to stop.” It was, “I don’t know if I know how.” ⸻ [VERSE 1 — WHEN IT STARTED] At first, she wasn’t trying to ruin her life. She was trying to survive it. That’s what she told herself. “I’ve been through too much.” “I deserve something.” “I just need to take the edge off.” “I’ll be okay tomorrow.” And tomorrow sounded so convincing when today hurt. She had problems she didn’t talk about. Pain she didn’t explain. Memories she kept buried. People who disappointed her. People she trusted who turned around and hurt her. Bills. Responsibilities. Family. Work. Relationships. Pressure. Expectations. And somewhere in the middle of trying to carry everything, she found something that made everything quiet. For a little while. The noise disappeared. The anxiety got softer. The sadness didn’t feel as heavy. She didn’t have to think. She didn’t have to remember. She didn’t have to feel. And that temporary silence felt like peace. But it wasn’t peace. It was an escape. And she didn’t know the difference yet. So she went back. Again. And again. And again. Not because she loved what it was doing to her. Because she loved how she felt before she remembered what it was doing to her. ⸻ [PRE-CHORUS] She said, “I can handle it.” Then she couldn’t. She said, “I’ll stop tomorrow.” Then tomorrow came. She said, “I’m not addicted.” Then she started planning her whole day around it. She said, “Nobody knows.” But her family knew. Her friends knew. Her job knew. And most importantly… she knew. ⸻ [CHORUS — BIG, EMOTIONAL] I want my life back. I want the woman in that mirror back. I want my laughter. I want my dreams. I want the love I used to have for me. I want to wake up without wondering what I did. I want to go to sleep without fighting with my mind. I want my family to stop looking at me like they’re scared. I want my friends to believe me again. I want to look into my own eyes and not feel ashamed. I don’t want another temporary high. I want a permanent reason to live. I want my life back. Even if I gotta crawl. Even if I gotta cry. Even if I gotta start from the bottom of everything I broke. I don’t care how long it takes. I just don’t want to disappear anymore. I want my life back. ⸻ [VERSE 2 — THE MORNING AFTER] Every morning started with questions. “What did I do?” “Who did I call?” “What did I say?” “Where did my money go?” “Why didn’t I answer my mother’s phone?” “Why did I miss work?” “Why did I lie?” “Why did I promise again?” She started checking her phone before she checked herself. Missed calls. Messages. Bank alerts. Work notifications. Family asking questions. Friends asking where she was. And sometimes, she would just stare at the screen. Not answering anybody. Because every message felt like another reminder of the person she had become. She would type, “I’m okay.” Delete it. Type, “I’m sorry.” Delete it. Type, “I promise I’ll change.” Delete it. Because how many times can you make the same promise before the promise means nothing? So she said nothing. Silence became easier. But silence has a price. The longer she stayed silent, the louder everything inside her became. ⸻ [VERSE 3 — THE CONVERSATION IN HER HEAD] There were two women living inside her. One wanted to stay alive. The other wanted to stay numb. The first one said, “Girl, this isn’t you.” The other said, “You need this.” The first said, “Look at your life.” The other said, “You’re under too much pressure.” The first said, “Your family is worried.” The other said, “They don’t understand you.” The first said, “You’re losing everything.” The other said, “You’ll fix it later.” The first said, “Please stop.” The other said, “Just one more time.” One more time. Those words became a prison. One more time before she stopped. One more time before she changed. One more time before she got serious. One more time before she became herself again. ..Polo Energ
