Who Am I Without This

[ Lyrics ]

Strip the lights, I disappear.

Sweatpants and silence, phone glow on the wall,
no filter, no flash, no ‘how’s it going, doll?’
I scroll through the comments like they’re scripture or proof,
but none of them say, ‘Hey, how’s your truth?’
Used to think the likes were love, just coded in blue,
now the screen feels like a mirror I never look through.
This apartment’s too quiet, just the clock and my breath,
and the ghost of a girl I ain’t met since I stepped into fame.

I built a name with a smile I rehearsed,
posed pain like it was perfect, reversed all the curse.
But who sees the hands that still shake when I write?
The voice in my head that says, ‘You’re not right’?
Not the artist, not the icon—just the kid with the fears,
who still texts exes at night like a volunteer.

Who am I without this?
Without the flash, the kiss, the hit, the show?
Strip the lights, I disappear.
Is there even a me down here below?
Who am I without this?
No caption, no filter, no story to sell?
Just a girl in a room, doing just as well—
or just as broken?

I wore my scars like a style back then,
sleek little lines for the ‘gram, called it ‘glamour within.’
But backstage, I’d cry in the dressing room light,
too proud to say, ‘I don’t feel alright.’
Mom called last week, said, ‘You sound so far,
did you forget who you are, or did you just raise the bar?’
I laughed it off, said, ‘I’m thriving, Ma,’
but I hung up and stared at the ceiling all day.

They love the image, the gloss, the grace,
but do they know the girl who still hides in her face?
The one who saves voice notes she’ll never send,
who still waits for a text like it’s life or the end?
I’m not the post. I’m not the vibe. I’m not the theme.
I’m the shadow behind the screen.

Who am I without this?
Without the flash, the kiss, the hit, the show?
Strip the lights, I disappear.
Is there even a me down here below?
Who am I without this?
No caption, no filter, no story to sell?
Just a girl in a room, doing just as well—
or just as hollow?

I used to think love was attention in pixels,
a sold-out show, a sold-out single.
But tonight, it’s just me and the silence,
and the truth in the static, sharp as violence.

If I walked down the street with no name and no face,
would I be worth the time, or just space?

Who am I without this?
Not the singer, not the star, not the quote, not the plot.
Strip the lights… but I’m still here.
Breathing through the fear, learning how to just… *be*.
Who am I without this?
Maybe not famous, maybe not free—
but I’m real.
And that’s enough for me.

Strip the lights…
I’m still here.

Silence.