They weighed my whole existence in a handful of little hearts
Sold me a golden scoreboard, called it all the finer arts
But a soul was never numbers, it was never yours to score
I unhooked from the counting — and I've never felt so more

I used to check the tally like a fever checks the sky
Refresh the little verdict on how much I qualify
A thumb went up in Tokyo and I felt myself exist
A thumb stayed down in silence and I clenched an empty fist

Then I saw the highlight reel was only ever someone's stage
Their blooper cut was hidden — I'd been booing my own page

They weighed my whole existence in a handful of little hearts
Sold me a golden scoreboard, called it all the finer arts
But a soul was never numbers, it was never yours to score
I unhooked from the counting — and I've never felt so more

Comparison's a thief that only steals when you invite
It slips in through the highlight and it robs you overnight
I trade the phantom applause for a coffee with a friend
Real laughter has no metric and it doesn't need a trend

Fifth commandment, gently: you are not a leaderboard.
The heart they hand you is not the heart you own.
Weigh yourself in mornings kept, in kindnesses, in rest.

The number was a mirror that could only show a sliver
I'd rather be a whole and quiet, uncounted, flowing river

Let them keep the little hearts, let the scoreboard gather dust
I'm rich in something realer that a metric couldn't trust
My worth was never public and it never wore a chart
I found it in the living — not the counting of the heart