I remember when it was you and I — you, a part of me. You would whisper ideas into my ear, telling me of what I could be, but, suddenly, you were taken away. Goodbyes, we could never say. Tears, we could never cry. Together, we’d never die. Now it’s just me and my ghostly bones. I was already cold, but bow I’m something worse…I’m alone.

@loveyris great question! Still working on that, but I should have one up soon, including stuff on spotify

alone (spoken word)

the only way up (song idea during dinner)

i already washed u clean

from the archives

temporary: garage cover

unfamiliar (acoustic)

You Are

Undocumented, RARE.

I Need It

i'm sorry right now

Frank Ocean - Wither (slowed + pitch corrected)

17 yr old beatmaker, producer, and artist out of the southeast

Jesus loves you :)

alone (spoken word)

mr rogers

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