Grief, joy, anger, humor, dreaming —
all of it belongs here.

I write to survive my own insides. I share in case you're surviving yours too.

Pick the song that looks back at you. If you don't know where to start, this is a soft landing.

Below are a few singles I've released between albums. (My full albums — FVNERAL of False Selves, Crow Family, BYRDS, INTERLVDE and GORGEOUS (trigger warning)— live in the menu above.)

🪞 Mirror, Mirror off the Wall

Most streamed.

A song for the days I need to be held. For the mornings I can't say a kind word to myself.

This is the mirror work Louise Hay taught me, set to a melody I could carry in my ears. I look into my right eye. I stay. The room lights up. The little one inside stops bracing.

You don't have to believe it yet. You can just show up. The mirror will wait.

→ Listen to Mirror, Mirror off the Wall

🔥 I Can't Make You Happy

A song about guilt as an outdated signal, the death of "nice," and what rises when I stop performing calm to keep the room fair.

I wrote this from the inside of guilt — the kind I carry even after I've already left the fire. This song is what happens when my nervous system is still apologizing for the version of me that kept everyone else afloat.

It’s for release. I’m still shaking some days. Still feeling that guilt snake up my throat when I choose myself. But this time, I’m staying.

→ Listen to I Can't Make You Happy

Thanks for landing here.

May your feet find their next step without rushing.

A little crow's on the wire, keeping watch over you. 🐦‍⬛

WIFEY GOT A GOOD LIFE – Lyrics

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.

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Bless Their Hearts - Lyrics

Bless Their Hearts - Lyrics

Bless Their Hearts is me catching my own tongue mid-swing.
It’s what happened when I stopped venting and started asking: why am I saying this?
Every line is a reckoning with my own projections—where I turned pain into poison and called it clarity.
I wrote this one in the quiet after the insult, where the shame sits. Where the mirror doesn’t blink.

This track isn’t about forgiving them.
It’s about facing me.
It’s about learning to speak without bleeding.
To name without blame.
To let go of the story that made me feel powerful by making someone else small.

This is what it sounds like when I clean my mouth and bless their name.

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