This song is about the private ritual of escaping. Unlocking the part of yourself that holds everything you don’t want to look at, lighting the match, and stepping into a distorted universe where the monsters feel clearer than real life. For a little while you’re free. Then the hours pass and you have to lock it back up, put the mask on, and return to the version of you the world expects. I wrote it from the place of needing that escape and then having to come back anyway. The repeated “Open” is both the craving and the exhaustion of it. By the end it’s quieter — still here, still a work in progress, still opening the box even when you wish you didn’t need to.more

This song is about the quiet, heavy urge to disappear when the weight gets too much. The days of choking down medication, locking the door so you don’t become a burden, and feeling yourself turn to stone from the inside. It’s written from the place of being so deep in it that vanishing starts to feel like the only option left. I wrote it because I’ve lived that exact feeling — the exhaustion, the fear of breaking every bond I’m still holding onto, and the moment where you wonder if you’re already too far gone. But I also wrote it for the part that refuses to fully leave. The part that can still say “I’m not whole, but I’m still here… work in progress.” It’s not a song about giving up. It’s a song about the middle of the fade, and choosing to stay anyway.more

I wrote this after losing someone I’d known for 25 years to cancer. Her passing made me think about my family’s history of memory loss and what it would mean to lose the people I love twice. This song is a map back home—a collection of little lights, stories, songs, and memories to help us find each other again. 🕊️💖more