Chaos magick with a mother’s mercy and a crow’s accuracy.
(Scroll down for lyrics)
I love writing music because It shows me who I want to be, while showing who I’ve been.
This space is my grimoire in plain sight.
Mirror work, meltdown, magick — all braided into sound.
GORGEOUS was the first album, the scream, the first skin I shed.
This album comes with a trigger warning and lives in its own tab.
It covers sexual coercion, PTSD, abuse, and more.
FVNERAL is the burial: a double album with
27 tracks, 22 Reversed Major Arcana Tarot Cards
as ghost burials of false selves I once needed to survive.
(still being written)
Between them, I write single release songs —
rage and trauma, mirror work, grief rituals, protection spells, and anti–people-pleasing anthems. Some are about parenting and trying not to pass the storm down. Some are about chronic pain and teaching my body it’s finally safe. Others live in law of attraction, spirit animals and body-based magick—spell-songs for the ones who feel too much and need somewhere to put it.
Everything here was written because I needed it.
If you’re reading, maybe something in here needs you too.
My songs are written by me (a Scorpio with too many journals) and sung through Suno.
The songs below are mirrors. Pick the one that stares back.
Crow watches the gate.
keep the light on.
Unbraced - Lyrics
This song came out of a yoga session where, for the first time since my son was born, I truly relaxed. He was safe downstairs with his uncle, finally trusting someone new, and my body finally believed it too. I cried with gratitude and relief. But the truth is, I was braced long before him. Braced is my setpoint. This track is the sound of my body untying its own armor—Unbraced.
WIFEY GOT A GOOD LIFE – Lyrics
Wifey Got a Good Life—a love song rooted in mess, memory, and staying through the storm. It captures the quiet joy of a life co-built: cold rice on the stove, laughter in the kitchen, a child drawing on the wall. The moment holds because love held first. This isn’t a dream—it’s the real thing, and it hums from the inside out.
BECAUSE I SAID SO – Lyrics
This song is my reckoning. BECAUSE I SAID SO came from the gap between how I was showing up and who I wanted to be. It’s the sound of me catching myself mid-script, mid-yell, mid-trigger—and choosing something different. I didn’t write this from theory—I wrote it from the floor, holding the weight of my own voice.
RAKE AND STICK (FOR EVERY MOTHER AND FATHER WHO HELD IT IN) – Lyrics
This blog digs into the silence shaped by survival. Loui Crow wields the rake and the stick as ritual tools—unearthing what was buried, and swinging what was never allowed to scream. Part lyrical offering, part body-spell, this piece turns inherited weight into rhythm, movement, and breath. It’s a thunder cry of love for the ones who never got to let it out.
I’m Gonna Get My Stick - Lyrics
This is a love song for the fathers who didn’t know how to cry.
A rhythm born from silence, survival, and the weight of lineage.
The stick becomes a symbol of what shaped us—then a ritual tool for what frees us.
Through stomp, chant, and verse, I dance the grief they never could.
Every beat is a vow to move what stayed locked in their bones.
WHERE ARE THE MOTHERS – Lyrics
This blog holds the spell of a mother who chooses not to pass it down. I wrote it in the aftermath of a hard moment, with breath still shaking in my ribs. These lyrics track the pattern of rage, restraint, and repair—the sacred loop of staying present in fire without becoming it. I offer this for anyone who has ever stormed, returned, and chosen love with mud still on their boots.
I AM THE RAKE – Lyrics
This is what I wrote instead of screaming.
The rake moved what my mouth couldn’t say.
It dug through the grief I didn’t name—but still felt, still carried, still almost passed on.
It’s a rhythm for the ones who inherited the storm and chose to break the cycle with their body.
Not against the ones who came before—but for them.
For the love that was buried beneath duty.
For the softness that never got spoken.
I swing to clear space for that.
This is how I till the field and return with love.