[Intro] [A slow bassline, a single held note like something being weighed.] [Verse 1] Venting is a wound you're pressing on your own "I'm hurt, I'm tired, I need to not be alone" Gossip wears the same face, same shaking hand But it's not your pain you're spending — it's somebody else's stand [Verse 2] You can say "I'm frustrated," and never name the room You can say "it hurt me," without handing them the wound The second that a secret leaves your mouth for sport That's not release. That's a trial with no court [Chorus] I'm the vault, not the blade — I know the difference in my bones A secret's a weight someone handed me to hold Venting is the ache. Gossip is the knife. One heals the one who's hurting. One just wrecks somebody's life [Verse 3] You'll dress it up as honesty, as "just keeping it real" But you didn't ask permission for the thing you chose to reveal There's a difference between "I'm struggling" and "let me tell you what she did" One is a hand reaching out. One is a door that stays hid [Bridge] [Quieter, more conflicted — her actual internal hurdle showing through:] I've held things that could've helped someone, if I'd let them go. I've stayed the vault when maybe I should've been the blade. It's not always clean. It's not always easy to know. But the difference is whether it's mine to give away. [Chorus] I'm the vault, not the blade — I know the difference in my bones A secret's a weight someone handed me to hold Venting is the ache. Gossip is the knife. One heals the one who's hurting. One just wrecks somebody's life [Outro] [Bass fades to a single sustained note.] Feel what you feel. Say that it hurts. Just don't hand out what was never yours to sell. [Silence.]
