I walked out, dropped the mic on the floor,
Left the crowd, closed the door.
All that shine I used to chase
Don’t own me anymore.
All that gold went cold by spring,
Truth don’t bloom in everything.
Your silence used to cut me down
Now it just feels like solid ground.

And somewhere past the palace and the haze,
I learned not every love is saved.
Frost on mirrors I used to chase,
Snow settling on the empty space.

Red to gold, pain to pulse.
Still here. Still mine.
Still here, carved in the sound,
Still here, still unbound.
I found me
Right where the dark tried to borrow my light.
I found me
Quiet in the winter night.
Every step, every scar, every plea
I stopped reaching for hands
That stopped reaching for me.
Red to gold, pain to pulse.
Still here. Still mine.
Still here, still unbound.
You found me
And I found me
In the light.

I left footprints in that marble dust,
Soft reminders, not a trust.
No more notes left on your door,
No more waiting like before.
Some goodbyes don’t need to speak
They turn to snow and melt to peace.
They saw fame, I saw faith,
Through the noise, I found grace.

Red to gold, pain to pulse.
Still here. Still mine.
Still here, carved in the sound,
Still here, still unbound.
I found me
Right where the dark tried to borrow my light.
I found me
Quiet in the winter night.
Every step, every scar, every plea
I stopped reaching for hands
That stopped reaching for me.
Red to gold, pain to pulse.
Still here. Still here.
Still here, still unbound.
You found me
And I found me
In the light.

Yeah, I froze what tried to pull me back,
Melted down the weight I lacked.
Didn’t need the palace or the praise,
Just breath and room to live my way.
No more running toward a ghost,
No more proving I’m worth the most.
Silence fits me like a coat
Warm enough to keep me close.

Red to gold, pain to pulse.
Still here. Still mine.
Still here, carved in the sound,
Still here, still unbound.
Every voice, every lie, every fight
They taught me where to stand
When I’m done with the night.
Red to gold, pain to pulse.
Still here. Still mine.
Still here, carved in the sound,
Still here, still unbound.
You found me.
And I found me
In the light.

I Found ME

Geometry Seam

Say Hi

I talk.
Not loud.
Just enough to send something real into the air.
I picture it climbing, drifting, landing.
But most days it just falls.
Hits the floor.
Rolls away.
People nod.
Smile.
Move on.
Like I never said anything at all.

I try again.
Different angle.
Different words.
A softer shape.
A sharper one.
Doesn’t matter.
They hear the sound.
Not the meaning.
It’s like tossing a message across a canyon
and getting back wind instead of an answer.

I’m talking.
They’re talking.
But we’re not in the same room.
Maybe not even the same planet.
I send out truth
and it disappears into wide silence.
And that silence feels bigger than me.
I’m talking.
They’re talking.
But we’re not in the same room.
Maybe not even the same planet.
I send out truth
and it disappears into wide silence.
And that silence feels bigger than me.

Sometimes I wonder
if I’m speaking a language
only I understand.
Not magic.
Not prophecy.
Just the kind of honesty
you learn when everything feels too sharp
and you have to name it
to stay alive.
I hold out pieces of myself
like they matter.
People look.
Blink.
Step around them.
Keep going.

I’m talking.
They’re talking.
But we’re not in the same room.
Maybe not even the same planet.
I send out truth
and it disappears into wide silence.
And that silence feels bigger than me.
I’m talking.
They’re talking.
But we’re not in the same room.
Maybe not even the same planet.
I send out truth
and it disappears into wide silence.
And that silence feels bigger than me.

Maybe they don’t mean harm.
Maybe they don’t know
how heavy it is
to be the only one
who feels the ground shaking
before the quake hits.
Maybe it’s easier
to pretend my voice is small
than to hear what I’m really saying.

I’m talking.
They’re talking.
But the distance stays.
My words go in
and the room stays empty.
Wide silence.
Wide sky.
Wide ache.
Wide silence.
Wide sky.
Wide ache.
I’m talking.
They’re talking.
But the distance stays.
My words go in
and the room stays empty.
Wide silence.
Wide sky.
Wide ache.
Wide silence.
Wide sky.
Wide ache.

So I gather what’s left.
Hold it close.
Wait for one person
who hears more than the sound.
Someone who pauses.
Looks up.
And finally says,
“I heard you.”

Wide

Left an offering by your doorway,
let the silence say whatever I couldn’t.
Morning light hit me sideways in the pews,
Later I was bent over the sink,
Bitter taste rising up my throat,
knees on cold tile,
Feels like metal in my mouth 
like some old memory crawled out of storage,
Slow burn in my chest.

My body pulls me back.
My body pulls me back.
My body pulls me back.
protects, and shuts
the feeling before it hits my throat.
My body always knows the script.
I reach out,
it tightens.
I breathe in,
it warns me.
My body pulls me back.
My body pulls me back.
My body pulls me back.

White pants on an oil road,
you already know that ending.
Some stains happen on contact,
no matter how slow the step,
no matter how soft the intention.
I try to move forward,
but the past moves quicker.
I try to step closer,
but something in me whispers no.
Over and over.
Same note,
same echo.

My body pulls me back.
My body pulls me back.
My body pulls me back.
protects, and shuts
the feeling before it hits my throat.
My body always knows the script.
I reach out,
it tightens.
I breathe in,
it warns me.
My body pulls me back.
My body pulls me back.
My body pulls me back.
Yeah, it pulls me back.

My body pulls me back.
My body pulls me back.
My body pulls me back.
My body always knows the script.
I reach out,
it tightens.
I breathe in,
it warns me.
My body pulls me back.
My body pulls me back.
My body pulls me back.
Yeah, it pulls me back.

Pulls Me Back

I make music across moods, genres, and voices. Sometimes I’m the storyteller, sometimes I’m the ghost in the machine, sometimes I just let the sound speak. Each track is its own mirror, folk, synth, pop, hip hop, ambient, whatever shape the feeling takes.

I write to give form to what often feels unseen. What you’ll find here is a collection of experiments, memories, and alter egos. Proof that truth has many sounds, and that what feels hidden can still connect us.

Multi-genre | experimental
VAL.KÆRA//FRM

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