9. The Little One Inside

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Loui Crow - Streaming Everywhere

I rest my gaze in my left eye,
when I want to visit the little one inside.
The door has been here the whole time.
I used to look in this eye and find a reason to hate.
Now I look in this eye and find her.
(for the little one inside.)

[VERSE 1]
The left eye holds a girl who stopped asking for help.
Who stopped believing a hand would catch her.
Who forgot the sound of her own laugh.
But she figured out the lock — from the inside.
(Left eye — Ghost eye.)

[PRE-CHORUS]
The glass holds a different light today.
A small hope rises where I kept no hope before.
Hope feels strange.
I stay anyway.

[CHORUS]
Little one inside, I like what I see.
I wrap my arms around me. She's held at last.
The glass shows how.
Little one inside, you're safe with me.
I like what I see.
(I wrap my arms around me.)

[BRIDGE]
In a long gaze with her — my body starts a slow rock.
Back, forward.
The mirror follows.
Every sway is a year she spent alone.
The space between us is how long she waited for me.
(Left eye — Ghost eye.)

[PRE-CHORUS]
The glass holds a different light today.
A small hope rises where I kept no hope before.
Hope feels strange.
I stay anyway.

[CHORUS]
Little one inside, I like what I see.
I wrap my arms around me. She's held at last.
The glass shows how.
Little one inside, you're safe with me.
I like what I see.
(I wrap my arms around me.)

[OUTRO]
I love the way you still tried.
Now I try for you.
You kept a small light burning behind my left eye.
You are safe in my sight now.
I won't leave you again.

Loui Crow

I make music, practice mirror work, sometimes I do somatic rage fits, and small forms of magick that help me stay present and kind while things change.

I write songs for myself, my inner child, and for the woman I am becoming.
I work through old patterns, grief, and survival habits as I notice them loosening.

Sometimes I write as the Crow — that's my ideal self. Direct, unattached, protective, grounded in something older than my fear. Other voices come through too. The snake. The spider. The fly. The ghosts are the false selves I created to survive. I write as all of them, for my own self-hypnosis — unpacking who I've been so that my son can fill his days with joy and I can stop being such a reactive parent. I'm in the middle of it all. I just keep showing up.

I use Suno for vocals and instrumentals — the vocals are seeded from my own voice. I'm a disabled veteran and a stay-at-home mom.

Over the last year, I climbed an emotional ladder I didn't know I was on. Many of my earlier releases were the scream — my depression, anger, insecurity.

The last album that came out of that climb is called "Mirror, Mirror off the Wall." It starts with depression and ends with gratitude.

Much of what lives here carries the influence of Louise Hay and Abraham Hicks, especially the idea that my body listens to my thoughts — and that where I place my attention, my life follows.

I leave breadcrumbs in case anyone resonates.

Take what feeds you.
Leave the rest for the birds.

I am molting.
You are welcome here.

https://louicrow.com
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