A frame photo leans crooked on the shelf
Smiling people I don't recognize anymore
Gold light spills from a living room window
Someone celebrating something I never asked for
My reflection slides over the dark of my phone The makeup half gone,
eyes still sharp
I hear your voice in a clip notification
Like a headline trying to tell me who I am
I learned how to look proud on Color Man
But my chest never signed the contract
I don't wanna be a trophy on your
shelf Quiet proof that you did it right
I don't wanna shine for somebody else While I disappear at night
It isn't bitterness It's choosing a life
That doesn't need your applause to feel alive
The subway floods the platform with white noise
Faces glazed in moving light
A couple rehearses a perfect smile
For a camera they don't own
I used to measure my worth by reactions
By how fast my name would land Now I notice how heavy that echo felt
It's really helpful
There's a difference between being admired and being seen
I don't wanna be a trophy on your shelf Polishing to something small
I don't want my quiet turning into A story you tell at all
It isn't distance It's taking my voice back from the room
That taught me how to stop
I thought winning
meant being chosen
All the lights decide
But my body softens
When I stop waiting
For permission to be mine
No ribbon moment
No perfect frame
No crowd to underline the truth
Just the slow
relief of walking forward
Without performing
Who I am for you
I don't wanna be a trophy on your
shelf I want my weight back in my name
I wanna leave with both my hands open
Now holding your version of my face
It isn't pride
It's learning how to belong to
myself and stay
I turn the frame face down
Let the room go quiet
I walk out carrying nothing
I had to earn