I Was the Abuser - Lyrics

Title: I Was the Abuser
Artist: Loui Crow
Streaming: All platforms
🔗 Linktree: https://linktr.ee/louicrow

This one is carved, not written. A holy gutting. It's what happens when you stop hiding behind survival and stare at the blade in your own hand. It's not an apology. It's a ritual. A naming. A liberation by fire. This is what accountability sounds like when it’s honest. When it costs something. When it bleeds.

This is what it means to say: “I did that. And I’m the one who has to stop it.”

🖋 LYRICS — I WAS THE ABUSER

[HOOK – Spoken like a dare, steady and grounded]
Go on, get your popcorn.
This ain’t a clean confession.
It’s a scorched earth session,
where I set fire to my own reflection.
Don’t clap yet.
We're dragging me.
Through every bruise I dressed in charm,
through every time I called harm "calm."
I was the abuser.
Yeah. That’s me.

[VERSE 1 – Slow burn, sharpened detail]
Derek. Military. Sweet like breath before the scream.
Language degree, motorcycle lean,
red rose in his teeth like a dream.
But we weren’t love. We were locked and loaded.
Two trauma bombs, safety codes exploded.
I moved in fast. No pause, no grace.
Just trauma in a bag, a new man in its place.
He was careful. Gentle. Quiet hands.
I was rage in jeans, no plans.
I yelled when he didn’t flinch,
flinched when he held his stance.
Hit his arm like it was a game,
but I knew the rules and still played blame.
His priest dad pulled him aside:
"That girl is abusing you."
He wasn’t lying.
I just didn’t want the view.

[PRE-HOOK – Building tension, rhyme tightening]
Told myself he was hiding things.
Really, it was me with the strings.
Softness felt like setup scenes,
so I broke his peace just to feel seen.
Every face turned into Eli’s mask.
Every kindness was a test I passed.

[HOOK – Chant-style, louder, rhythmic]
I was the abuser.
I say it loud.
I don’t sugarcoat it.
I don’t play proud.
I just bring the mirror.
I bring the breath.
I let it rot
so I can rest.
Yeah—I did that.
Etch it deep.
No edits. No bleach.
Let the silence speak.
I was the abuser.
That blood is mine.
And I carve it clear
line by line.

[VERSE 2 – Crushing, more raw]
He didn’t want sex.
Not with pain in his back,
not with a body that didn’t track.
I said, “Why don’t you want me?”
Like rejection was attack.
Like his "no" was a slap.
He never got to say,
"This isn’t the gender I feel."
He just tightened his jaw
and stayed still.
I took it personal.
Made it a fight.
I yelled. How could he answer?
I didn’t ask what kept him up at night.
He wanted to transition. He wanted to be a woman.
But I made every silence a sin.
Military rules, daddy's collar,
and me demanding his skin.
I saw him look at women,
and I lost my breath.
Cornered him like debt.
I read his stillness like a lie,
raised my voice under restaurant lights.
Accused him of lust, of lies, of everything
except the truth he couldn’t bring.
He didn’t want to be a man.
And I never saw it.
Never gave him space to name it.
Just forced him to embody it.
If he had told me—
I could have loved him through.
I could have held her name like a sacred truth.
But I never softened. Never paused.
Never gave him air to say the cause.
I was too loud with fear.
Too blind to hear.
And now I live with that missing piece—
what he never got to release.

[BRIDGE – Whispered, pulse under skin]
You ever guilt someone into touch?
Wrap need in chains and call it love?
I did that.
He didn’t push—I made him leave.
Not with fists.
But with everything I couldn’t see.

[VERSE 3 – Poetic and brutal, tighten impact]
He bought me a dress.
Blue. Tight. Love stitched in silk.
He said I looked beautiful.
I curled my lips like milk gone sour.
I didn’t believe him.
Valentine’s Day. Candlelight. Power.
And all I saw was motive, mask.
What's he hiding behind the glass?
He bought me a boob job.
Because I hated my chest.
Saw how I cried, when I took my shirt off.
And I turned it into a test.
Accused him of buying silence.
I accused him of jerking off.
But he was just trying to hold space.
And I was too busy gripping my pain
like it gave me shape.

[RITUAL VERSE – Chant-like, trance beat rises]
We were roles.
He played man.
I played demand.
No script. Just fear.
Just breath we didn’t clear.
He never said,
"This isn’t who I am."
I never gave him room
to un-become the man.
I rattled his quiet.
I pried at his skin.
But really?
I was the blade the whole thing was in.

[FINAL HOOK – Chant-layered, steady rise]
I was the abuser.
I say it again.
I write it in blood.
Make it end.
Not to punish.
Not to fall.
But to stop this shit
once and for all.
I was the abuser.
But I broke the chain.
I named it.
I walked through flame.

[OUTRO – Spoken like breath through teeth]
I sit with the mirror.
I say: I did that.
I speak it so it doesn’t speak me.
I forgive.
Not to forget.
To break the repeat.

💔 What pain or struggle is this blog addressing?

This song addresses abuse from the inside out. The kind we inflict. The kind we justify. It speaks to the buried truth of women who were hurt—and then became the ones who harmed. It names jealousy, sexual coercion, emotional domination, and the ache of trying to control love instead of feel it. It’s for anyone afraid to admit they crossed the line.

This one doesn’t flinch. It doesn’t frame, excuse, or dilute.

It says: “I did that. And I want it to end with me.”

🕯 Source Blog:
This song was born from my blog, [Was I the Abuser? (Pt. 3: Derek)].
Read the full breakdown here → [insert link to full blog]

🖤 CROW BLESSING

May the mirror crack clean.
May your confession be a key, not a cage.
May your pain lose its edge when you name its shadow.
May every line you etch in truth become the gate to your own release.