Scrolling Through Ghosts

[ Lyrics ]

I compare, I crumble, I close the app.

Blue light painting streaks across my ceiling,
dance reels on repeat, same grace, same healing.
She spins in slow-mo, gold dust in her hair,
I’m tangled in my sheets, just a body in the air.
Thumb up, heartbreak, I play the game,
watch my confidence dissolve like sugar in the rain.
Another girl with wings, another story sold,
and I’m here with a pen, just trying to feel whole.

The music’s too loud, but I’m stuck in the hush,
scrolling through their lives like I’m out of touch.
Side-chained beat drops, but I don’t even flinch—
my own voice a whisper I’m too scared to sing.

I compare, I crumble, I close the app.
Another perfect moment I’ll never snap.
I feel it, I fear it, I let it in—
then log out of the chaos, log back into my skin.

Saw a flash of me in a backstage clip—
was it hers, or did I dream that grip?
The way she held the mic like it owed her respect,
my voice still begs permission, I guess I haven’t checked.
She laughed mid-performance, cracked a joke to the crowd,
I rehearse every word like I’m standing in shrouds.
Same city, same dream, same cracked sidewalk,
but she glows like neon—me? I just flicker and nod.

The pad breathes low, like a truth I ignore,
vinyl crackle humming from the floor to the door.
I mute the outside, hit record on my core—
maybe broken notes are worth singing for.

I compare, I crumble, I close the app.
No more curated magic I can’t recap.
I feel it, I fear it, I breathe it in—
then write down the ache where the light begins.

The girl with the spotlight? I’ve worn her face.
The one with the courage? I’ve memorized her pace.
But tonight, I won’t borrow, I’ll bleed out my own hues—
these cracks in the mirror? That’s where my song breaks through.

I compare, I crumble, I close the app.
Now I’m writing my verses on notebook scraps.
I felt it, I faced it, I let it in—
my voice ain’t perfect, but it’s mine again.

Pen down…
lights out…

I choose me.