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.
Our Lady of the Lash – Lyrics
This song comes from the choke in my throat, the hush I inherited, the catechism of being small. Our Lady of the Lash is me breaking that gag. I drag the rake through inherited hush, dig up the grief, and write scripture in scars. This is not obedience. This is resurrection. Rage is my gospel. Holiness isn’t hush—it’s survival that learned to roar.
WHAT’S YOUR MARK? (The Ghost)
What’s Your Mark? is a mirror-song for the ones who smiled through survival. It’s about the bite behind “be good,” the flinch behind “be nice.” Every verse speaks the ghost you became to be kept. You weren’t born ashamed—you were trained. This is the body’s record. The rage beneath the praise. The addiction born from silence. You didn’t vanish. You adapted. Now the mark is glowing. And the mirror is calling you home.
Ripple - Lyrics
This one came through like thunder. I wrote it from the ribs, where the church and the wound both echo. “Ripple” isn’t about saving—it's about seeing. It’s Christ and the Devil, rage and breath, ash and gold. I’m not the map. I’m the quake. The scream. The mirror. The ripple. I wrote this to wake the holy in your hurt.