“Why are you so quiet?”
Oh, fuck you.
You don’t even know what’s happening inside my head.
It’s a mess. A storm. A migraine that won’t stop.

I open my mouth, and you sigh,
Like I’m asking too much, like I’m weak inside.
Every thought is a puzzle, twisted and wrong,
Trying to make sense while the world moves on.
I beg for help, I reach for a hand,
And you push me down, like you’ll never understand.
You call it drama, call it attention,
I call it surviving, call it tension.
My brain’s on fire, spilling over slow,
You just tell me to be quiet and go.

I’m screaming, I’m bleeding,
I’m clawing for air.
And all you do is judge me,
Like you fucking care.

“Calm down,” they say,
Like my pain’s your entertainment today.
“Stop whining,” they lie,
Like my head isn’t collapsing inside.
“Relax,” they preach,
Like the migraine in my skull is your problem too.
I’m not fine, I’m not safe,
And no, you don’t get to tell me what to do.

My mind’s a hurricane, thoughts smashing together,
Nothing fits, nothing lasts, migraines forever.
I’ve swallowed nights, I’ve chewed on fear,
I’ve begged for help, but nobody’s near.
I’ve hidden screams in corners, under my bed,
While you sip your tea, tell me I’m fine instead.
You don’t know what it’s like to feel hollow and torn,
To scream in the silence and be fucking scorned.
You tell me to settle, tell me to “move on,”
I’ll rage louder, motherfucker, till you’re gone.

My head’s a war zone, no pause, no truce,
Thoughts slicing my skull like a razor-sharp noose.
Synapses snapping, migraine tapping, brain collapsing,
I spit this chaos at you, you just keep gasping.

You say “calm down,” I say fuck that, I’m wired,
Each syllable’s a spark from the fire you inspired.
I’m juggling storms in my chest, teeth gritted tight,
While you sip your tea and pretend it’s all right.

Your comfort is bullshit, your patience a lie,
You don’t know the nights I bled just to survive.
I twist words, flip scripts, spit venom precise,
Each rhyme a dagger carved from my sacrifice.

I’ve swallowed the dark, swallowed the screams,
Swallowed the migraine that rips at my dreams.
I’m wired, I’m tired, my thoughts don’t rest,
Fuck your “quiet down,” I’ll scream this chest.

Quiet…
Be quiet…
I’ll scream…
I’ll scream…
I’ll scream till my head splits…

“Calm down,” they say,
Like my pain’s your entertainment today.
“Stop whining,” they lie,
Like my head isn’t collapsing inside.
“Relax,” they preach,
Like the migraine in my skull is your problem too.
I’m not fine, I’m not safe,
And no, you don’t get to tell me what to do.

You don’t get to name my pain,
You don’t get to judge my brain.
You didn’t live the fire in me,
The migraine, the chaos, the storm in my head —
So keep your advice. Let me be.

“Calm down,” they say,
Like my pain’s your entertainment today.
“Stop whining,” they lie,
Like my head isn’t collapsing inside.
“Relax,” they preach,
Like the migraine in my skull is your problem too.
I’m not fine, I’m not safe,
And no, you don’t get to tell me what to do.

“Why are you so quiet?”
Because my head’s a mess,
Because my thoughts are bleeding,
Because every time I speak,
You tell me to calm down.

"Why Are You Quiet?"

He walks past, catchin’ every curve,
Tongue tied, can’t resist the nerve.
I don’t say much, but he’s thinkin’ loud,
Knees hittin’ floor, prayin’ proud.

Lip gloss wet, skin on fire,
Boys droolin’, caught in desire.
They wanna taste, but I don’t feed,
Only play when I’m in the lead.

No need to beg, no need to chase,
They crawl just to taste my grace.
Whispers hot like midnight sin,
Boy, come closer—let me pull you in.

Boys look so good when they’re down on me,
Hands in my hair, beggin’ endlessly.
I’m not interested, but damn, they please,
Droppin’ to their knees like a sweet disease.
Keep your man—he’s just a tease,
I’m the queen that brings him to his knees.

Slow grind, lips brush skin,
The way he looks, like he’s ‘bout to sin.
I don’t need him, but I like the game,
Playin’ hard, whisperin’ my name.

He wants the touch, the midnight call,
But I’m the one who makes him fall.
No promises, just the night,
Boys worship me till morning light.

No need to beg, no need to chase,
They crawl just to taste my grace.
Whispers hot like midnight sin,
Boy, come closer—let me pull you in.

Boys look so good when they’re down on me,
Hands in my hair, beggin’ endlessly.
I’m not interested, but damn, they please,
Droppin’ to their knees like a sweet disease.
Keep your man—he’s just a tease,
I’m the queen that brings him to his knees.

Fingers tracing, lips like fire,
I’m the spark that fuels his desire.
No strings, no ties, just the rush,
Boys lose control when I hush.

Boys look so good when they’re down on me,
Worshipin’ every inch, no guarantee.
I’m the queen, and this is my scene,
They’re down on their knees, but I’m the queen.

Down For Me

Yeah… I know I’m supposed to slow down —
but peace feels like a breakdown.

I keep watchin’ the lines blur under my tires,
same as the lines I crossed to feed my fires.
People say “rest,” but they don’t get the noise,
it’s quiet that kills me, not the choice.

I sleep with my foot still pressed on ghosts,
racin’ the version of me that hurts the most.
Every breath’s a dare, every prayer’s a sin,
I keep losin’ to the same war I started to win.

I’m a blur in the mirror, a scream in disguise,
got speed in my veins and smoke in my eyes.

I’m past the limit, no brakes, no fear,
engine’s screamin’, can’t hear the tears.
I’m past the limit, adrenaline clear,
every heartbeat’s a threat I steer.
Yeah, I’m past the limit — no brakes, no fear,
I’m the smoke in my lungs, I disappear.

Yo, I’m runnin’ on fumes and a caffeine conscience,
can’t slow down, my brain’s obnoxious.
Thoughts like exhaust pipes pop and hiss,
each one burns — I breathe the risk.

Got a clock on my chest like a time bomb tickin’,
mind’s gone missin’, but the rhyme’s still kickin’.
Overthinkin’ got me blinkin’ in reverse —
tryna fix my life by writin’ it worse.

Every verse is a curse I rehearse in silence,
I confess — I’m obsessed with violence.
Not the blood or the fists, it’s the noise I crave,
the crash, the spark, the grave misbehave.
Every failure I frame like an art display,
every bruise I wear’s a new cliché.

Fast lane brain — it’s a mental highway,
I speed through pain like it’s Friday.
Insane how the pressure makes me thrive,
heart barely beatin’ but I’m alive.

Sick with the rush, but I call it religion,
conflict’s my God, I’m the crucifixion.
Every mission’s just me outrunnin’ myself,
tradin’ peace for panic, sanity for wealth.

Got a ghost in my throat screamin’ “shift again,”
and I grin, crashin’ into what I could’ve been.

If I stop now, the silence wins,
and I can’t sit still in my own skin.
I’m built to break — it’s how I cope,
speed is my sin, and pain’s my hope.

I’m past the limit, no brakes, no fear,
engine’s screamin’, can’t hear the tears.
I’m past the limit, adrenaline clear,
every heartbeat’s a threat I steer.
Yeah, I’m past the limit — no brakes, no fear,
burnin’ out fast, but I’m still right here.

If I crash tonight… at least it’s loud enough to prove I lived.

REDLINE

You drag your teeth right down my skin,
Soft enough to tease, deep enough to pull me in.
Cherry heat rises where your mouth has been,
Leaving red warmth blooming under my grin.

Your fingers trace slow, then hold me tight,
A perfect mix of danger and delight.
I feel the pull before you even start—
Pressure hits deep, straight through my heart.

Your bite marks map every place you choose,
Cherry-red shadows I never want to lose.
Every little nibble steals my breath—
Pressure building, sweet as death.

Cherry bite pressure
right where you sink your teeth.
Soft enough to tease me,
deep enough beneath.
Cherry bite pressure—
baby, I feel you claim.
Leave the mark I carry
when you whisper out my name.

Your lips graze slow along my shoulder blade,
Heat settling low in every line you’ve made.
You pull me closer, angle my chin,
Your tongue drawing circles, dragging me in.

Every breath you take turns the world to red—
Cherry-tinted dreams rushing through my head.
I lift for you, ready for more,
And you sink your little bites like you did before.

Your mouth knows things my body can’t hide,
Cherry warmth spreading deep inside.
Every little pressure makes me shake—
You know exactly what to take.

Cherry bite pressure
right where you sink your teeth.
Soft enough to tease me,
deep enough beneath.
Cherry bite pressure—
baby, I feel you claim.
Leave the mark I carry
when you whisper out my name.

Press a little harder, let the red come through,
Every bite says everything you can’t say in words you do.
Taste me slow, trace the parts I crave,
Cherry heat dripping in the rhythm you gave.

Hands on my hips, tightening your hold,
You write your promise in a shade of bold.

Cherry Bite Pressure

These hallways used to feel warmer when I walked through,
Held every version of me like they knew my name.
Now every step I take comes back like a warning,
Every echo sounding exactly the same.
There’s a coldness settling deep in the corners,
A quiet emptiness I can’t seem to shake.
The shadows feel like company, but not the kind that comforts—
More like they're mirroring every fear I make.

And this silence hits harder than any voice I’ve known,
Wrapping tight around the thoughts I won’t show.
I try to breathe steady, but the air just disappears—
Like this house is feeding on the things I fear.

These hollow hallways keep calling my name,
But the sound never reaches anyone—
It just fades where it came.
And every step echoes louder
Than the truth I try to hide,
In these hollow hallways
Where the emptiness feels alive.
They hold the parts of me
That I’m scared to recognize—
And the further that I walk,
The more I question what’s inside
These hollow, hollow hallways
Where my thoughts don’t have a place to hide.

I pass the pictures hanging crooked on the plaster,
Faces that once felt familiar now blur and fade.
Memories peeling at the edges, curling inward,
Like the house is tired of what I tried to save.
I hear footsteps that don’t belong to anyone living,
Little taps that tell me I’m not here alone.
Maybe it’s the ghosts of who I used to be whispering,
Trying to pull me back to a place they called home.

These walls know me deeper than anyone ever did,
They know the secrets I tried to keep hid.
And the things I thought I buried down low
Still rise in the shadows wherever I go.

These hollow hallways keep calling my name,
But the sound never reaches anyone—
It just fades where it came.
And every step echoes louder
Than the truth I try to hide,
In these hollow hallways
Where the emptiness feels alive.
They hold the parts of me
That I’m scared to recognize—
And the further that I walk,
The more I question what’s inside
These hollow, hollow hallways
Where my thoughts don’t have a place to hide.

I don’t know if I’m running from myself
Or if the hallways are pulling me in.
Every turn feels like a story
That I don’t know how to begin.
Maybe the echoes aren’t just voices—
Maybe they’re truths I left behind,
Trying to lead me back
To the pieces I misplaced over time.

These hollow hallways keep calling my name,
But the sound never reaches anyone—
It just fades where it came.
And every step echoes louder
Than the truth I try to hide,
In these hollow hallways
Where the emptiness feels alive.
They hold the parts of me
That I’m scared to recognize—
And the further that I walk,
The more I question what’s inside
These hollow, hollow hallways
Where my thoughts don’t have a place to hide.

Hollow Hallways

We were talking fine,
laughing fine,
everything smooth,
no walls, no signs.
Then my battery chirped—
that little warning chime,
and I said,
“Hold on a second, just need a minute of time.”

Your smile dropped like a stone in water,
eyes widened like I’d confessed a crime.
Funny how one sentence
turns you into someone I don’t recognize.

“Wait… you’re deaf?”
As if the whole time I’d been tricking you,
as if I hid some big reveal
designed to personally inconvenience you.

You were warm before,
now you’re cautious.
You were normal before,
now you’re conscious
of every word, every breath, every move—
like suddenly I’m something to improve.

I said “Hold on a second,”
not “Rewrite who I am.”
I needed a battery,
not your pity or your scam.
You switched up fast
like the truth unspun you—
Oh, now I’m deaf?
Funny how that suddenly changed you.
Hold on a second…
I didn’t change.
Your reaction did.

You start speaking slow,
like I’m fragile glass,
pausing between words
like minutes have to pass.
You turn your head to check
if I’m keeping pace,
but your awkwardness is louder
than anything I can replace.

Before the battery died,
you treated me fine.
Now you’re over-enunciating,
acting like I crossed some line.
It’s wild how your tone
went from relaxed to staged—
like one tiny truth
made the whole script change.

I told you nothing new,
nothing shocking, nothing wild—
but suddenly you’re handling me
like I’m some scared child.

I said “Hold on a second,”
not “Treat me like a case.”
I needed a moment,
not a whole new face.
You switched up quick,
like my silence offended you—
Oh, now I’m deaf?
Funny how that suddenly shook you.
Hold on a second…
I didn’t change.
Your comfort did.

You didn’t mind
when I heard enough to keep things smooth.
But the second I needed clarity?
You forgot how to move.
You forgot who I was.
You forgot we were fine.
All because I needed
one damn minute of time.

It’s not my job to ease your fear.
It’s not my job to disappear.
I’m still me—
battery in, battery out—
but you only see the silence,
not what I’m about.

I said “Hold on a second,”
not “Redefine me now.”
I didn’t ask for pity
or whatever this is somehow.
You switched up fast
for something that’s always been true—
Oh, now I’m deaf?
Welcome to the part you never knew.
Hold on a second…
If one battery scares you,
wait ‘til you learn
everything else I’ve been through.

I needed a pause.
You needed a warning.
Now I’m back…
but you’re not the same.

Hold On a Second (Oh… You’re Deaf?)

I wasn’t saved; I was rewritten—
stitched in shadow, stitched in light.
You held my trembling innocence
like scripture meant for night.
I wasn’t born for heaven’s hands,
too fragile for their fire—
but you touched every ruined part
and made each flaw inspire.

You whispered, “Angel, you’re a wonder—
holy where you think you break.”
And in your breath, I felt myself
reborn for your sake.

I’m the prettiest miracle—
born from ache, reborn from sin.
You held my ruins carefully
and saw the glow within.
I’m the prettiest miracle—
a truth you let begin.
You loved the parts the heavens feared,
and made them whole again.

Every tear became a blessing,
every wound a quiet hymn,
and when you touched the parts I hid,
I felt divinity within.
My sorrow turned to sacred light
the moment you drew near—
and even death went silent
when you whispered, “I am here.”

You murmured, “Angel, you were chosen—
not despite the fall you had.”
And in that tender honesty,
I learned ruin could be glad.

I’m the prettiest miracle—
born from ache, reborn from sin.
You held my ruins carefully
and saw the glow within.
I’m the prettiest miracle—
a truth you let begin.
You loved the parts the heavens feared,
and made them whole again.

Let the heavens question why—
let the angels bow and weep.
Every miracle finds form
in the wounds we choose to keep.

“You’re my miracle,” you breathed—
“the one I never thought I’d earn.”

I’m the prettiest miracle—
your devotion made it so.
You turned my cracks to constellations,
made my darkness softly glow.
I’m the prettiest miracle—
and now I finally know:
even broken angels bloom
when given room
to grow.

The Prettiest Miracle

December’s at my door again,
Wrapping paper on the floor again,
Everyone is asking what I want this year—
But gifts don’t fix the things I fear.
Stockings hanging like they're waiting,
But I'm stuck between what's real and faking.
A child in me still hides behind
The silent things I never got in time.

I don’t want ribbons,
I don’t want gold—
I want the nights
That nobody holds.
Under the lights
I learned how to freeze—
Smiling for pictures
No one could see.

Santa, I don’t want a thing this year…
Just stitch the wounds they left right here.
Fix the parts they broke in me,
The ones I hide so nobody sees.
I don’t need magic, I don’t need snow—
Just give me back what I lost long ago.
Write it down in the dark where the truth blooms—
All I ever had was a wishlist of wounds.

I ask for something simple each year,
Not toys, not joy—just a note sincere.
A handwritten letter with my name on the page,
A little softness for the child in my age.
But every December, it’s the same routine—
I wait for a moment that’s never been seen.
They call it wishing, they call it belief—
But how do you trust when you get no relief?

I don’t want laughter,
Forced on my lips—
I want the moments
I never lived.
Under the tinsel
I still feel small—
Trying to breathe
Through it all, through it all.

Santa, I don’t want a thing this year…
Just stitch the wounds they left right here.
Fix the parts they broke in me,
The ones I hide so nobody sees.
I don’t need magic, I don’t need snow—
Just give me back what I lost long ago.
Write it down in the dark where the truth blooms—
All I ever had was a wishlist of wounds.

If healing came wrapped up in bows,
I'd open it slow… I'd open it slow.
But winter keeps pulling the scars that I know,
So I whisper my wishes to the cold.

Santa, won’t you listen…?
Please… won’t you listen?
Santa… Santa… I am calling out.
Every single year
I ask you for one thing—
A handwritten letter,
Just something small to bring.
But you never send it,
Not once in my life—
Just silence wrapped up
In a bow of goodbye.
Santa… Santa…
Won’t you listen now?

What’s the point of telling you what I want
When you won’t give me what I want?
It’s the same every Christmas,
The same quiet doubt—
I ask you for a letter
And you still leave me out.
Too much of their time,
Too much to care—
Too much to answer
A wish hanging in air.
So I stop dreaming,
Let the hope unwind—
Even the smallest things
Are too much to find.

Santa, I don’t want the world this year—
Just mend the places memory seared.
Hold the child I used to be,
The one who prayed for company.
Don’t send me glitter, don’t send me cheer—
Just take the weight I’ve carried for years.
Signed in a heart that never quite bloomed—
Yours,
From the one with a wishlist of wounds.

Wishlist of Wounds

Some nights I feel like I’m just typing into the void. Left on read. Ignored. Half-seen. Left on Read is the album of all those moments: the messages you send that sink to the bottom, the conversations that never really happen, and the silence that says more than words ever could.

Every track is a text I wanted to send but didn’t, a thought I swallowed to keep the peace, a version of me I tried to hide just to fit. It’s the ache of being invisible in the spaces I thought I belonged, the frustration of feeling replaceable, and the quiet power in learning to claim my voice anyway.

This is for anyone who’s ever felt unseen, dismissed, or left waiting. Listen like someone’s reading your messages back to you.

Self-Destruct Button

All songs are written and sung entirely by me — every word, every melody, every story comes straight from my own hands. There’s no AI involved in the creation of my music. 

If you want to read along, all lyrics are included in the song descriptions.

Self-Destruct Button

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