4. GRIP
[VERSE 1]
We share a break room—jokes on loop,
while pain's in bloom, and bruises fade too soon.
I say, "He cried after hurting me. I took the blame."
She says, "I pretend I'm in someone else's bed—
so I don't wake up screaming at what he said."
He changes the rules mid-sentence.
I flinch, then edit my presence.
The tighter I clench, the better his grip.
I learned to freeze, to please, to twist when it burned,
called it love 'cause no one ever gave me the word.
He knotted the vow like a marital noose.
No one ever told me it was all abuse.
I joke through pain like it's polite.
I'm one of the many who freeze each night.
Our mothers blinked through the slam and the prayer,
called it faith just to not disappear.
[CHORUS]
They say "wife." I live beneath.
Wear the ring. Swallow the grief.
God is the gag. We call it alive.
Silent wives. Grip to survive.
Keep me, O Lord, from the hands of the wicked—
but those were the hands that held me.
He prayed with his fists, then sealed it with a kiss.
I flinched and obeyed—still ended like this.
[VERSE 2]
I spot the lie in the turtleneck—
mid-spring, no breeze. No cold to check.
The bruises hide in that black fabric.
She bends, she folds—she's acrobatic.
He erupts on her, full volcanic.
We both wore bruises like wedding rings.
I called to check—her grip on the phone said everything.
She whispers, "He'll hear this call."
He mutters. She gasps. Then the line clicks.
I don't know what happened to my friend.
He said he'd slit her throat in her sleep—
said I was next if she dared to speak.
I thought she ghosted me.
But she was protecting me.
Silence was the price of my pulse.
That's how deep the GRIP goes.
[BRIDGE]
If God is grip, then I am God.
If He watches, I'm the fraud unflawed.
He watches? Then watch this.
I'm the bruise clenching into a fist.
You say: "You're just like her."
I say: "That's not a curse."
Our mother's quiet scream
still lives beneath our teeth.
[CHORUS]
They say "wife." I live beneath.
Wear the ring. Swallow the grief.
God is the gag. We call it alive.
Silent wives. Grip to survive.
[OUTRO]
If He's the script, then I'm the pen.
If He watches it all, I write the end.
Now look.
The grip is gone.
The mirror spoke.
And I'm still strong.
The grip is gone.
