Mica Vein

[Verse 1]
The little white line above my knee, Abel,
From falling off the fence on Paisano Drive.
July of '09, the pavement burned a perfect gray;
I learned to make my body unalive.
You traced it once, a cold cartography,
Said, "It's just a trick of the refracted sun."

[Chorus]
But this is not a scar, it's a mica vein.
Pressure and a million years of rain.
It catches light, it proves the weight, it holds the fault.
A mineral grown deep inside the salt.

[Verse 2]
I spent a decade learning how to fold,
A sedimentary layer in your room.
Each quiet word a grain of sand, I'm told,
Compresses you inside a living tomb.
You wanted smoothness, polish, you wanted glass,
Not the gritty truth of what the ground endures.

[Chorus]
But this is not a scar, it's a mica vein.
Pressure and a million years of rain.
It catches light, it proves the weight, it holds the fault.
A mineral grown deep inside the salt.

[Bridge]
(Beat switches: intimate groove replaced by cinematic, driving disco-orchestral section)
And I feel the fracture starting, a tectonic shift inside me.
The surface tension breaks, and finally,
I'm not apologizing for the relief, for the release.

[Chorus]
This was never a scar, it's my mica vein!
Pressure and a million years of pain!
It catches light, it proves the weight, it holds the fault!
A mineral I grew inside the salt!