Never My Name

 Never My Name

They love to talk in labels, like tags on my skin,

Tryna sum me up quick, never ask where I been,

Point fingers at the noise like it defines my brain,

But pain ain’t my title and fear ain’t my name.


Got voices in my head, yeah I face ‘em head-on,

I don’t bow to the chaos, I ain’t ruled by the song,

They assume if it’s loud then I must be “unstable,”

But I’m standing right here—don’t reduce me to a label.


They wanna say I’m broken, say I’m outta my mind,

But I been fighting battles they don’t see behind,

I don’t need your judgment, don’t need your decree,

I’m not “crazy” — I’m just lost at sea.


They write conclusions without reading my lines,

Call it “losing control” when I’m holding the line,

I don’t need your verdict, don’t need your shame,

You can say what you want—just don’t say my name


They talk like they know me from a chapter or two,

But I wrote the whole book while they skimmed what’s new,

I’m not a warning label, not a case study name,

I’m a human being walking straight through flame.


You don’t get to brand me with your fear and your frame,

I hear the thoughts, I fight the war, I walk through the flame,

But “crazy” was never,  ever my name.


I ain’t ashamed of my scars or my fight,

I ain’t ashamed I had to claw for the light,

You can keep your whispers, keep your sideways looks,

I beat every demon they never put in the books.


I decide who I am, not your whisper campaign,

Say it louder if you want, say it quiet the same—

But that word? That label?

Never my name.


They wanna diagnose my soul like it’s black and white,

Like a chart explains survival, like a word ends the fight,

But I learned discernment, not every thought gets a throne,

Some pass through the room, some get shown the door home.

I been doubted, dissected, put under the lens,

They call struggle a weakness, I call it defense,

I don’t flinch when they stare, I don’t shrink when they judge,

I survived what they couldn’t, so don’t say I’m “too much.”


They say “be normal,” like that’s something to chase,

But normal never held me when I fell on my face,

I don’t owe you an explanation for healing my game,

You can keep your assumptions—just don’t say my name.


You don’t get to brand me with your fear and your frame,

I hear the thoughts, I fight the war, I walk through the flame,

But “crazy” was never, ever my name.


I’m not a headline, not a cautionary tale,

I’m the proof that the mind can bend and not fail,

I don’t need to erase what I’ve been through to stand,

But don’t carve your fear into who I am.


Never my name—get it straight, get it right,

I’m still here, still choosing myself every night,

I battled the noise and I stayed in the fight,

Call me strong, call me human, call me learning my light—


Call me strong, call me real, I’m refusing the blame,

But don’t call me crazy—

That was never my name.

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