You don’t like when I speak my truth in the dark

You scroll past the pain I paint, double-tap the spark

You don’t like when the bassline knocks your crown

King’s blood in my gums, still you beg me to drown

I rose from the curb where the sirens don’t sleep

You claim that you care, but your silence runs deep

You don’t like—yeah, I felt it—still I climb every bar

Kendrick in my pulse, Melo in the stars

Born a stranger, beneath a sky of glass,

Footprints fade where no memories pass.

Whispers of names I was never quite given,

Drift through the dusk like smoke in the river.

I reach for the chords of a song I once knew,

But the melody melts in the morning dew.

If home is a heartbeat, then why does it roam?

I’m born a stranger, still searching for home.