Album Deep Feelings: Listen Now
Music has always been a powerful language for the emotions we struggle to express, and with our album, Deep Feelings, we dive unapologetically into the heart of vulnerability. This collection isn’t just a soundtrack—it’s a mirror held up to the soul.
The Inspiration Behind the Album
Deep Feelings was born from moments when words alone weren't enough—when only music could hold the weight of what we were feeling. Every track is rooted in lived experience, emotional truth, and the inner battles we often fight in silence. This album is a space for the unspoken, for the softness hidden beneath strength, and for those still learning to feel their way through the dark.
What to Expect
From the tender ache of “The Hardest Goodbye” to the resilient fire in “I’m Still Mine,” Deep Feelings moves through sorrow, survival, awakening, and transformation. It offers stripped-down honesty and atmospheric depth, with melodies that hold space for healing and lyrics that speak directly to the soul. Whether you're in the midst of your own journey or simply need to feel understood, this album invites you to sit with your truth—and know you're not alone.
01. Real and Safe
“Real and Safe” is a declaration of emotional integrity in a world obsessed with surface-level connection. This song was born from the deep ache to be held—not just physically, but spiritually. It's about craving a bond that doesn’t fade in the morning or hide behind performance, but one that stands the test of time, truth, and vulnerability.
In a culture that often confuses attention for intimacy, Real and Safe draws a clear line: I won’t give my body where my soul doesn’t feel seen. I won’t accept “almost” when I’m capable of “all in.” This song rejects the shallow, the half-hearted, the performative. It asks for depth, presence, and the kind of love that builds a foundation—not just a moment.
It’s about safety that isn’t born from fear or control, but from mutual respect. About being strong enough to wait for what’s real, and tender enough to still want it.
This is not a love song for fantasy—it’s a love song for reality. For the kind of love that’s worth the fall because it’s honest, reciprocal, and rooted in something true.
02. Love Cuts Both Ways
“Love Cuts Both Ways” is the anthem of loving deeply—and walking away when it’s no longer safe to stay. It speaks to the quiet devastation of seeing someone’s truth, offering your heart without expectation, and being met with withdrawal and avoidance instead of honesty.
This song isn't about blame; it’s about the painful beauty of recognition. When you reflect someone’s soul back to them and they’re not ready to see it, the result isn’t always anger—it’s distance. Love Cuts Both Ways explores that emotional fracture: when silence becomes a shield, when vulnerability turns into self-preservation.
It captures the ache of loving someone who flinches from their own reflection in your eyes, of realizing that hope can burn you if you hold it too long. It’s about learning that unconditional love doesn’t mean self-abandonment, and that sometimes, letting go is the most loving thing you can do—for both of you.
This isn’t a bitter song. It’s a release. A soft, firm closing of the door that says: I cared. I showed up. But I can’t bleed endlessly for someone who won’t stay.
03. Is That All You See?
“Is That All You See?” is a confrontation wrapped in poetry—an honest reckoning with the ache of being objectified, misunderstood, and emotionally dismissed. This song exposes the emptiness of surface-level attention when what your soul really craves is presence, depth, and emotional reciprocity.
It’s for anyone who’s ever been praised for their beauty but ignored in their vulnerability. For those who’ve offered their truth only to watch it be dodged, minimized, or turned into something shallow. This isn’t just about being seen—it’s about how you’re seen. Are you a full human, or just a moment of pleasure? A soul, or a passing spark?
At its core, this song is a reclaiming. A refusal to be reduced. A voice saying, “Don’t tell me I’m too much when you only ever looked at the surface.”
This is not a cry for validation—it’s a declaration of worth. It’s the sound of someone who knows what they carry inside… and is done settling for anyone who can’t see it.
04. Still Here
“Still Here” is the voice of survival in its rawest form—a declaration from the forgotten, the overlooked, the ones who exist in the shadows of society’s comfort zones. It’s not polished. It’s not sugar-coated. It’s real.
This song is about what it means to keep breathing when no one checks if you’re still alive. It speaks for those who wake up every day surrounded by silence, judged by appearances, abandoned by systems and people who once promised care. It honors the strength it takes just to be—to sit with your pain and not let it consume you.
But “Still Here” isn’t just about isolation. It’s about quiet defiance. It’s about the fire that refuses to go out, the dignity that remains even when stripped of everything else. It’s about declaring your existence when the world would rather not look. About saying, “I matter—even if no one claps, even if no one helps, even if I’m bleeding invisibly.”
This is a song for the ones who were left behind—and are still standing.
05. See Me, Not My Struggle
“See Me, Not My Struggle” is a plea—soft, exposed, and painfully human. It’s not about poverty. It’s not about desperation. It’s about perception. About how quickly people assume your worth based on what you lack, instead of who you are.
This song speaks for those who are constantly mistaken for a burden. For those who crave genuine connection but are met with guarded hearts and assumptions that they’re “after something.” It challenges the idea that being in need makes you unworthy of love, attention, or respect.
At its core, “See Me, Not My Struggle” is about wanting to be chosen—not pitied. It’s about the ache of being misunderstood, of being seen as a problem instead of a person. But it’s also about quiet strength. About the courage it takes to show up anyway, heart open, even when life has pinned you down.
This is for anyone who’s ever wanted someone to look beyond the mess and just say: “I see you—and I’m not walking away.”
06. Talk to My Soul
“Talk to My Soul” is a boundary set in poetry. A declaration that intimacy without depth is not connection, it’s just noise. This song speaks for those who are done with surface-level interactions, especially the kind that reduce people to bodies instead of whole, feeling beings.
It was written from the ache of being approached for what’s visible, while the unseen goes untouched. From being desired, but not truly known. “Talk to My Soul” is about slowing it all down and asking for what really matters—respect, presence, truth, and emotional safety.
It doesn’t shame desire—it just demands that it be rooted in something real. It asks the listener to show up with integrity, not empty lines. Because for some of us, being chosen means more than being wanted—it means being understood.
This is for anyone who's tired of being touched but never felt.
07. Through the Worst
“Through the Worst” is a song for every soul who’s ever asked to be loved in their entirety—not just when they’re shining, but when they’re breaking.
It’s a reflection on what real connection looks like: showing up when things get hard, when the light fades, when someone is at their most vulnerable. Too often, people disappear when the glow dims. This track is a call for loyalty, depth, and love that doesn’t flinch in the face of struggle.
It’s not about perfection. It’s about being met in the shadows and not being abandoned when the mask slips. “Through the Worst” reminds us that the people who stand with us in the storm are the ones who truly earn the right to dance with us in the sun.
It’s a boundary and a vow. A request for reciprocity. And a promise that when love is real, it doesn’t wait for the best version of you—it helps you rebuild when you’ve been torn down.
08. Stand By Me
“Stand By Me” is a tribute to the kind of man this world doesn’t talk about enough—one who shows up, stays steady, and holds love with both strength and softness.
This song honors emotional availability, loyalty, and the quiet power of a man who doesn’t run when things get hard. He doesn’t fear a woman’s complexity—he honors it. He stands tall not through dominance, but through presence. He listens, feels, protects, and remains.
In a world that often rewards emotional detachment and fleeting attention, “Stand By Me” is a love letter to the man who stays. Not because it’s easy—but because it’s real. Because love, to him, is not a moment—it’s a commitment.
This track is for the ones who know that true strength is found in compassion. And that showing up through someone’s darkest hour is the most beautiful kind of bravery.
09. Say It to Me
“Say It to Me” is a song about emotional clarity—about refusing to live in limbo when it comes to love.
Too often, we’re expected to guess what someone feels, to read between the lines, or to settle for half-truths and silence. This song is a boundary, a call for truth. It speaks for every person who's tired of mixed signals and wants something real, spoken, and certain.
It’s not about demanding love—it’s about asking for presence. For honesty. For the courage to speak what’s in the heart instead of leaving someone in the dark.
“Say It to Me” is for the bold—the ones who’ve walked through enough confusion to know they deserve to be chosen clearly, not quietly.
10. I’m Not Your Toy
“I’m Not Your Toy” is a declaration of self-worth — a bold refusal to be treated as disposable, temporary, or secondary.
This song speaks to the countless moments when someone offers love without respect, touch without tenderness, or presence only when it suits them. It’s about reclaiming agency and refusing to be used as a placeholder or emotional crutch.
It gives voice to the fire within — the kind that knows love isn’t real if it’s only convenient. “I’m Not Your Toy” is about ending the pattern, finding your backbone, and demanding the kind of connection that honors your heart, not just your body.
It’s not just a breakup song — it’s a rebirth anthem. A reminder that love without depth isn’t love at all.
11. If He Won’t Believe
“If He Won’t Believe” is the quiet heartbreak of realizing that love can’t thrive where fear takes root.
This song captures the moment when vulnerability meets a closed door — when you've given your truth, your heart, and your hope, only to be met with someone too afraid to receive it. It’s not about bitterness; it’s about clarity. The painful clarity that love requires belief, not just attraction. Trust, not just touch.
This track speaks for the ones who showed up fully, only to watch someone shrink away. It’s about letting go of a love that couldn’t hold you — and honoring yourself for daring to be real, even when it wasn’t returned.
A ballad for the brave hearts who love without walls, “If He Won’t Believe” is a reminder: if someone can’t meet you with faith, they were never ready for the truth of you.
12. Was I Ever Here?
“Was I Ever Here?” is the sound of silent suffering — of carrying deep emotional pain while the world looks away.
This song captures what it feels like to be emotionally invisible. To speak truth and be met with avoidance. To cry and feel shame instead of comfort. It’s about the exhaustion of constantly questioning your worth, wondering if your existence has ever really registered in the hearts of others.
For anyone who’s ever felt like they had to shrink themselves just to be tolerated, this track is a mirror and a release. It voices the quiet despair of feeling unseen, unheard, and unloved — not because you have nothing to offer, but because the world isn’t willing to look beyond the surface.
“Was I Ever Here?” isn’t just a song — it’s a confession. A vulnerable anthem for those who’ve been emotionally erased, yet still dare to ask the question that aches at the center of it all: “Do I even matter?”
13. I Don’t Want to Be Strong Anymore
“I Don’t Want to Be Strong Anymore” is a tender unraveling of the armor.
This song gives voice to the exhaustion of carrying the world, of always being “the strong one,” especially when life gave no other choice. It’s not weakness — it’s truth. The truth of a woman who has fought for so long that she’s forgotten what softness feels like. A woman who’s tired of being praised for surviving while quietly yearning to simply live, feel, and be held.
This track isn’t about giving up — it’s about choosing rest over resistance, grace over grit, and authentic femininity over forced resilience. It’s a reclamation of softness. Of freedom. Of the right to be a woman in full expression — not just a soldier of survival.
This song is for every woman who’s been told to harden herself to be respected. It's a heartfelt surrender to self-love — and a soft, beautiful reminder: You’re allowed to lay the burden down.
14. More Than Gold
“More Than Gold” is a soulful anthem for those who value meaning over material.
This song speaks to a life lived from the heart — a life that seeks depth, not status. It reflects the quiet strength of someone who’s walked through the world empty-handed but soul-rich, who’s chosen connection over convenience, and truth over transactions.
It’s a reminder that love, presence, and emotional safety are more valuable than anything money can buy. That real wealth is found in someone who stays when things get hard, who hears your silence, and who holds your soul—not just your body.
This song is for every person who’s been told they’re “not enough” because they didn’t chase what glitters. It’s a declaration that the most precious things in life — loyalty, empathy, and love — can’t be bought… and shouldn’t have to be.
15. What Love Feels Like
“What Love Feels Like” is a tender declaration of soul-level love — the kind that transcends touch, time, and fear.
This song captures the beauty of loving someone not just for their body, but for their essence. It's a gentle yet powerful reminder that true love isn’t about possession or performance — it's about presence, intention, and energy. It’s about recognizing the sacred in someone, even when they can’t see it in themselves.
“What Love Feels Like” speaks to the longing to love someone wholly and safely — to offer a soft place in a harsh world. It’s the heartbeat of what real intimacy looks like when it's rooted in spirit, not just desire.
For anyone who has ever loved deeply, patiently, and without demand… this song is yours.
16. I Don’t Want to Disappear
“I Don’t Want to Disappear” is an emotional unraveling of what it feels like to exist loudly in silence — to be present but unseen, expressive yet overlooked.
This song voices the quiet ache of isolation in a world obsessed with noise. It speaks for those who post, speak, reach out — only to be met with apathy or absence. It’s not about wanting attention… it’s about wanting witness. To be felt, not just noticed.
The track captures the raw edge of loneliness when connection feels unreachable, and the soul begins to question its own existence. But even within that darkness, there's a pulse — a fragile, burning hope that someone, somewhere, might really see.
For those who’ve ever faded into the background, not because they wanted to — but because they had to… this song is a soft scream: “I’m still here.”
17. Will I Ever Be Enough?
“Will I Ever Be Enough?” is an anthem for the ones who’ve been told they’re too much and somehow not enough—at the same time.
This song holds the ache of living in a world that weighs worth in money, beauty, and silence—while dismissing truth, depth, and heart. It’s a raw confession from someone who has given their all, raised their children, carried their pain, and kept loving through it all… yet still wonders if just being themselves will ever be enough to be loved.
It’s not about pity—it’s about worth. It's about wanting to be seen, chosen, and cherished not for what you can offer, but simply for who you are. For your presence. Your soul. Your fire.
This track isn’t a question of weakness—it’s a bold, aching plea for real love in a world that often looks the other way. For everyone who's ever felt overlooked, undervalued, or unseen… this is your voice. This is your reminder: you are already enough.
18. Still, I’ll Be Here
“Still, I’ll Be Here” is a quiet vow whispered through the storms of love and pain — a promise to hold space even when words fail and old wounds reopen.
This song digs into the complicated dance of connection: the pride, the fear, the triggers that push us apart, and the choice to stay despite it all. It’s about seeing each other beyond the masks and past hurts, about fighting not against each other but the shadows that haunt us both.
“Still, I’ll Be Here” is not about perfection or endless harmony — it’s about resilience, forgiveness, and the messy, brave work of choosing love even when it hurts.
For anyone who knows the ache of loving someone while still learning to love themselves, this song is a gentle but strong reminder: I’m not giving up. I’m still here.
19. Will You Give Up This Easily?
“Will You Give Up This Easily?” is a raw and honest question posed at the fragile crossroads of love and healing. It explores the difficult reality that love is never perfect — it carries wounds, misunderstandings, and the weight of past pain.
This song lays bare the struggle to stay, to face the discomfort and triggers that arise when two people try to rebuild trust and closeness. It’s a heartfelt plea to choose vulnerability over retreat, conversation over silence, and hope over giving up.
“Will You Give Up This Easily?” challenges us to remember what’s at stake when love gets hard — the possibility of growth, forgiveness, and deeper connection — asking gently but firmly if we’re truly willing to walk away or if we’ll fight to hold on, even when it’s messy and uncertain.
20. Tired of the Storm
“Tired of the Storm” is a heartfelt expression of exhaustion and perseverance amid life’s relentless challenges. It delves into the emotional toll of constant struggle—the rising hopes and crushing setbacks that leave us worn and fragile.
This song reveals the inner battle between surrender and strength, capturing the deep longing for peace and stability beyond the chaos. It’s a raw acknowledgment of pain, doubt, and fatigue, balanced by a subtle thread of resilience that keeps us moving forward.
“Tired of the Storm” asks us to reflect on the moments when giving up feels like the easiest choice—but also reminds us of the quiet courage it takes to keep holding on, even when the path feels uncertain and the light seems far away.
🎧 Listen Now
The album is available on all major streaming platforms. Listen on Spotify, or in other platforms and immerse yourself in the stories that make us human.
