WHAT’S YOUR MARK? (The Ghost)

Title: WHAT’S YOUR MARK? (The Ghost)
Artist: Loui Crow
Streaming: All platforms
📱 TikTok: @louicrow

🖤 ABOUT THE SONG — WHAT’S YOUR MARK?

This is a song written in scar language. It speaks fluently in flinch. What’s Your Mark? isn’t about rebellion—it’s about return. The second you split from your truth to keep the peace. The day you gave your sparkle to the system and called it “good.”

This song is a mirror etched with every “gold star” that buried your voice. Every fake smile that passed the test. Every adult who clapped when you disappeared a little more. It’s what happens when the praise finally wears off, and the ghost underneath starts to scream.

You were never too sensitive. You were too awake for a world that punished aliveness. That trained you to sit still, raise your hand, and smile through the burn. Every line in this song is a bone memory. A breadcrumb trail back to the wild you that never asked for permission.

The moment your hunger became shame. The second your sparkle turned into strategy. The phrase that clipped your wings and called it discipline. That’s your mark.

And this is your undoing.

🔥 CROW BODY-BREAKDOWN — What “Coping” Really Is

Coping is camouflage. It looks clean on the outside, but it’s molten underneath. Every “normal” behavior? A spell. A coded response to danger.

Bingeing. Withholding. Overachieving. Addiction. Daydreaming. People-pleasing. They all start as brilliance. As adaptation. As somatic prophecy. Your body always knew the truth—it just got told to sit down and be nice.

Praise was the muzzle. Good behavior was the leash. The ghost in your spine is the part of you that noticed—and never agreed.

She’s the rage underneath the silence. The tremor under the gradebook. And she’s ready now. Not to behave. But to begin again.

🗣️ CROW AFFIRMATION

“I name the mark.
I burn the script.
I choose the child
they told me to quit.”

🖤 CROW TRUTH

Every gold star cost something. Every rule taught you how to vanish. You weren’t born to obey. You were born to burn.

This is your memory flare.
This is your mark.
And you are holy for surviving it.

🖋 LYRICS — WHAT’S YOUR MARK?

[Intro – Whispered]
What did you trade to be kept?
What was the cost of being good?
How old were you when the mirror turned mean?
Where did your ghost begin?

[Verse 1]
They said “Don’t cry.”
So I turned my eyes to stone.
They said “Be nice.”
So I offered skin and bone.
They said “Be quiet.”
So I bit my cheeks.
[Verse]
What’s your mark?
The phrase that slammed, and never quit?
They called it discipline. I call it doom.
They taught me to shrink in a classroom tomb.
Sit down. Be nice. Stay small.
Raise your hand. Swallow it all.
That’s how you kill a spark with praise.
That’s how the ghost gets born in a blaze.

[Chorus]
What’s your mark?
The vow you made but never said?
The day your body played dead in bed?
What’s your mark?
The hand that taught your mouth to freeze?
The bite that cracked your core with ease.
Eating is soothing. Numbing is shield.
Rage is control. The craving is real.
Each habit’s a signal in clever disguise.
Every addiction’s your ghost—still alive.

[Verse]
What’s your mark?
“Boys don’t cry”—so he drowned in dirt.
Learned to smile with a throat that hurt.
“Girls should grin”—so I scrubbed my scream.
Pressed it down like a daytime dream.
Raise your hand. Wait to speak.
That’s how I learned my thoughts were weak.
Sit still. Stay neat.
Breathe soft. Don’t eat.
Ask to move. Ask to pee.
That’s how they bound the spark in me.

[Verse]
Obedience fattens their golden cow.
Pain keeps you quiet then, now, and now.
Culture wants you busy with self-hate.
Because people who hate themselves don’t rage.
They consume.
They comply.
They shrink.
They stay.
The world doesn’t want you full of flame.
It needs you quiet. Sick with shame.
Because when you ache, you don’t resist.
You scroll, you spend, you clench your fists.
You don’t need a cage if the soul stays numb.
They fed us shame like sugar, and I swallowed some.

[Bridge]
They said:
Hate your body, keep it thin.
Hate your voice, tuck it in.
Hate your rage, call it sin.
So I behaved—
Survived in silence, played their game.
But the mirror knows.
It holds the scream.
It watched you practice your self-esteem.
It saw the mark. It watched it grow.
It held your face when you let go.

[Chorus]
What’s your mark?
The phrase that made your mirror dark?
Where did you leave your holy skin?
Who taught your ghost to tuck it in?
What’s your mark?
The breath you held to charm her?
The moment the laugh became armor?
They loved the laugh, not what it hid.
So I became the joke instead.
Every joke was a blade I slept with.
But inside I just felt dead.

[Verse]
I clicked ‘til the mirror forgot my name.
Chewed through the quiet to smother the flame.
Smoked for a taste of the ash I hid.
Drank to erase what the silence did.
Every urge is a gate unlatched.
Every twitch is a ghost dispatch.
Every loop is a path through pain—
A mark in the muscle. A vow in the vein.

[Verse]
What’s your mark?
The breath you buried to stay adored?
The vow you whispered when truth got scored?
What’s your mark?
The lie you lived to keep the peace?
The habit that gave your ghost release?
Eating is soothing. Numbing is safety.
Rage is control.
I chew instead of crying.
I sleep to not ask why.
I scroll so I don’t feel the sting.
I shop when I need a win.

[Verse]
They said “smile” so I painted it on.
They said “don’t cry.” So my tears were gone.
They said “be sweet.” So I rotted neat.
What’s your mark?
The vow that formed inside your skin?
The oath that said, “Never again”?
Eating is soothing. Numbing is safe.
Rage is how I guard my gate.
Every addiction is sacred bark.
Every ghost points back to the mark.

[Verse]
What looks like coping is a war I lost.
What looks like kindness came with a cost.
What looks like calm is freeze response.
What looks like peace is performance gloss.
A mirror cracked, a mouth erased.
A soul in chains, a heart replaced.

[Bridge]
Born in a system built to break.
Not from hate—but ease’s sake.
Obedience makes us profitable.
Pain keeps us predictable.
Hate yourself—stay weak.
Hate yourself—never speak.
Hate yourself—stay on beat.
Hate yourself—kiss their feet.
I said yes to be allowed.
I shut up to make them proud.
I learned to bleed behind a bow.
I rage because I see it now.

[Bridge]
You were born into a system that bends.
Not from hatred—from convenience.
Obedience makes you profitable.
Pain makes you predictable.
So you learned to ache in sequence.
Your grief became a product.
Your doubt became a tax.
You learned to mask your mirror
So they’d never mirror back.

[Outro]
Where did you vanish?
What did you trade to be kept?
How old were you when the mirror turned mean?
Who told you “you’re too sensitive”?
Who called you a sin?
You never lost yourself.
You traded yourself—
For love.
For safety.
For staying alive.
But the ghost is tired.
And the mark is glowing.
And the mirror is waiting.

[Outro]
I never asked. I never slept.
I wore their comfort like a debt.
I performed, I pleased, I gave, I stayed.

[whispered]
Every flinch is a message.
Smile, they said.
So I learned to suffocate politely.