GoddessTara

Domme Swag

She Holds the Key

“She Holds the Key”

Queen of Reckoning

“Queen of the Reckoning”

“Sweetest Addiction.”
This one’s about the kind of love that burns more than it heals. The kind where passion feels like proof, even when it’s poison. It’s that back-and-forth you swear is connection, but it’s really withdrawal and relapse in disguise.

I wrote it about a relationship that wasn’t abusive, but it wasn’t peace either. It was beautiful chaos late-night apologies, mixed signals, the constant dance between wanting more and knowing better. One of us cared too much; the other knew exactly how to use that. They said the right things, did just enough to keep me hooked, and I kept coming back, convinced this time it meant something real.

It’s not a love song.
It’s a confession 
for everyone who’s ever mistaken adrenaline for affection,
and called the high home.

Sweetest Addiction

Ashes Don't Cry

Bad Intentions

bad intentions

Crown Out the Mud

“Run It (Domme’s Creed).”
This one isn’t just a song  it’s a declaration. It’s me stepping into the part of myself that doesn’t apologize for power anymore. Run It was born from that sharp edge between control and surrender, the electric charge that happens when dominance isn’t cruelty, but clarity.

It’s the creed of a woman who’s done being small.
A southern storm in boots and rhythm, turning every past wound into authority. Every lyric is a commandment; every beat is a breath of rebellion. It’s not about breaking someone down it’s about showing what it looks like when a woman owns her voice, her desire, and her throne.

This is the anthem of the aftermath.
The moment she stops waiting for permission and runs it herself.

Run It (Domme's Creed)

Run It (Domme’s Creed)

“Payday.”
The clock strikes control.
He offers his worth in numbers,
and she takes it not the money,
but the power humming underneath.

It isn’t about greed.
It’s confession in currency,
a ritual of surrender signed in digital ink.
He gives to feel owned,
she takes to feel seen.

But the world sneers.
They call it manipulation,
because they can’t tell the difference
between a con and a kink,
between coercion and consent.

The truth lives somewhere quieter
in the pause before he hits send,
in the whisper of her approval.
It’s dangerous worship,
sacred to some,
sacrilege to most.

Payday

From pines to pavement, I blend hip-hop grit with country roots. My sound’s born from survival heartbreak, healing, and heavy bass. This is music for the ones who made it out alive

“She Holds the Key”

Goddess Tara