Lyric Vent| "Show Pony" - Glass Animals
Reflection On 'Show Pony' -
“Show pony, make it burn / Smile as the knife is turned.”
That line feels like my life in a sentence. I’ve been the show pony — dressed up, paraded around, expected to smile while bleeding out inside. I’ve learned how to perform when in pain like it’s a talent show. I’ve learned how to make survival look less messy.
When I hear “You met in New York City / He was sitting like a prince,” I think of the people I gave my heart to — the ones who looked like salvation but left me crying. I think of my ex, of the way she hurt me and still expected me to thank her for the bruises. I think of my father, who raised his hands instead of his voice.
“Two months in a minute / Married at a desk in a sundress with a witness.”
That’s how fast it happens, isn’t it? You blink and suddenly you’re trapped in something you thought was love. You think you’re safe, and then you’re not. You think you’re whole, and then you’re crying on the floor, whispering to a plushie and your dog because no one else will listen.
“But you don’t, baby, you’re alone / Echoes in your head, pressed into the floor.”
That’s what it felt like when they laughed at me in class. When they called me by the wrong name, not just a mistake, but a weapon. When I clammed up and stuttered and over-explained, and they made me feel like I was nothing. Like I was two-dimensional. Like I didn’t deserve to take up space.
But I do. I do.
“Show pony making a return / As we make our way through the universe."
I’m not just coming back. I’m coming back with fire in my lungs and love in my hands. I’m coming back for Jupiter, for Orion, for Harley who curls up beside me when the nightmares come. I’m coming back for the person who was told they were too much, too broken, too loud, too soft — and still kept loving.
"All those nights he left you and me / There was nothing left of you, but he squeezed / All those times he did what he pleased / Boy, those scars must really run deep."
Yes. Those scars do run deep. I think of all the times I was used, abused, taken advantage of...and I regret. Why did I let them do that to me? Why. I didn't deserve it.
“That’s how revenge is served / Make it so cold that it hurts."
My revenge is living. It’s loving. It’s choosing softness in a world that tried to harden me. It’s holding Jupiter’s hand and brushing Orion’s hair and whispering, “You’re loved.” It’s telling my stepmom about my family — the real one, the one I chose. It’s surviving, even when I didn’t think I would.
“Roll those credits, 'cause the sequel’s gonna hurt.”
Yeah. It will. Healing isn’t soft. It’s jagged. It’s messy. But I’m not afraid of the pain anymore. I’ve lived through worse. And now, I get to write the sequel. I get to choose who I become.
And I choose to be free.
