[contralto female vocals] [Threshold] Yeah, I keep a ledger on my skin, thin lines that only I can read I keep a bedroom on my tongue, small prayers I’m almost scared to speak I keep a silence in my jaw, it clicks when I grind down the grief I keep a promise in my chest: if I’m still here, I’ll make it mean *Snap* [Hook] I said it low so the room couldn’t break it - (I’m not done) I said it slow till my pulse could take it - (I’m not done) I let the ghosts in the mirror debate it - (I’m not done) I’m not done, I’m not done, I’m not - (...) [Verse 1] Kitchen tile cold, wrists on the counter, counting the doubts like coins I owe Phone face cracked like my Sunday mask, thumb scrolls holes I promised to sew Arkansas rain on the porch, my name on a bill I forgot to pay Back-porch breath, little tremor in the step, I pace that ache like a hallway stray I was the kid with the jaw set tight, bite down words, make nice, stay small I was the teen with a thrift-store spine, bent in the line for “be good” calls I was the saint of the “please don’t need,” Bleed in the sink, then clean the bowl I was the fuse that learned to hold, glow without flame till the sirens stalled I talk to myself in the second person: “Hey, love, you’re not a burden - you’re a version of a truth that took the scenic route,” (conversion) by a thousand tiny cuts, in a life that taught me split rehearsals: grief in the left hand, joy in the right - (coercion) from the world that wanted me tight - now I write my body like scripture - (no sermons,) just service - just service, just service. [Hook] I said it low so the room couldn’t break it - (I’m not done) I said it slow till my pulse could take it - (I’m not done) I let the ghosts in the mirror debate it - (I’m not done) I’m not done, I’m not done, I’m not - I'm I'm I'm not (...) [Verse 2] What do I want? A house that holds when thunder mouths the street What do I need? A truth that fits like scars that learned my heat What do I fear? That if I bloom, they’ll call it cheat What do I know? That every “no” I swallowed built these teeth I got a list on the fridge with a magnet of a stupid beach “Water / meds / breathe / eat,” preach to the breach in me I keep receipts: the nights I stayed instead of chasing ease I keep repeats: the song I made from “leave me be” I don’t do tidy arcs - I do spirals on purpose Circle back, re-mark, make the old pain service New vows, raw nerves, small curve toward courage If the past calls back I return the message: “Unavailable - building a present that deserves me.” [Bridge] Say it till the pulse believes Say it till the bone agrees Say it like a door with keys Say it like a mouth set free (...) [Verse 3 - confessional run] I want love that can stand the medical file, the panic mile, the after-trial, the “stay awhile” I want friends who don’t flinch at the quiet style, who know my smile is sometimes exile, sometimes vinyl - soft hiss, soft risk, needle on the vital I want mornings I don’t dodge like rivals, want to taste my tea, not audit survival, want to write my name without a bridle. I am the proof that soft doesn’t mean break, that ache can be accurate, not a mistake, that rage can be prayer in a different shape, that grace is a muscle we train when we shake. [Microhook] I’m not done with my body - She’s still learning my name I’m not done with my voice - I retrain every flame I’m not done with my life - I reclaim what I gave I’m not done (...) [Verse 4 - technical spill] Low hum, slow drum, throat-run confession, close-up, no-cut, whole-cloth expression, ghost luck, grown up, broke-but-obsession, show up, own up, home-bred progression. Jaw lock to jaw drop - fall back to fall soft - late bills to late bloom - black mood to back room - Say less, mean more - compression, take blame, give grace - succession, cut shame, stitch breath - procession, keep pace with the tender - profession. If there’s a church in me, it’s this: a sink, a list, a cup, a kiss, a spine that doesn’t ask permission, a “no” that loves like yes-with-limits. [Hook] I said it low so the room couldn’t break it - (I’m not done) I said it slow till my pulse could take it - (I’m not done) I let the ghosts in the mirror debate it - (I’m not done) I’m not done, I’m not done, I’m not - I'm I (...) [Outro - vow] If I vanish, it’s only to gather the parts I hid If I stammer, it’s only the bridge between what is and what I did If I falter, it’s holy - the body rehearsing how to live If I’m singing, it’s only because I promised I would not quit I’m not done.
