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A song about guilt as an outdated signal, the death of "nice," and what rises when I stop performing calm to keep the room fair.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. 🐦⬛
I AM ALFIE (THE BLACK PIG INSIDE) – Lyrics
A stuffed pig named Alfie once offered comfort. Now she returns as black flame, bent-eared and unashamed. This is the lyric blog for I Am Alfie (The Black Pig Inside)—a ritual of hunger reclaimed, rage remembered, and softness reborn in mud. Shame becomes drumbeat. Craving becomes law. The girl who danced in secret doesn’t ask anymore. She stomps. She wants. She stays.
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.