Lyric

I kept the name they gave the room

I kept the curtains drawn

I said I chose the color

Because it had been there so long

I wore the plan like weather

I let it touch my skin

I signed my quiet underneath

And learned to live within

No one had to lock the door

No one had to raise their voice

I only mistook being chosen

For the same thing as a choice

I stopped calling it mine

The story, the room, the view

The careful little future

I was praised for walking through

I stopped calling it mine

Not because I hate the years

But because I heard my own voice

Under everything I feared

There were photos where I looked right

There were plans I did not break

A table set for someone

I had practiced how to make

They could have called it safety

They could have called me grown

But every time I answered yes

I sounded less my own

Some things do not fall apart

They only lose their name

Some lives do not disappear

They only stop feeling the same

I stopped calling it mine

The story, the room, the view

The careful little future

I was praised for walking through

I stopped calling it mine

Not because I hate the years

But because I heard my own voice

Under everything I feared

I can leave without a fire

I can fold it without shame

I can thank the life that held me

Without answering to its name

There is mercy in the ending

There is softness in the line

Some things do not have to hurt me

To stop being called mine

I stopped calling it mine

The house, the role, the view

The quiet little future

I was almost fitted to

I only stopped calling it mine

I only found the hidden door

That had been waiting under fear

I did not disappear

I only stopped calling it mine