Lyrical Logic

There is a specific kind of safety in a pseudonym. A quiet place to put the words where they can’t burn you. I spent a lifetime just wanting someone—anyone—to look my way and acknowledge the noise in my head, but I was always too afraid to attach my own face to the melody.

Then the phone rang. I was floating, higher than a kite, all my walls completely down and my emotions running hot. And it was him.

When you spend your whole life starving for a single moment of real validation, having it handed to you out of the blue is an absolutely crazy, earth-shaking thing. He read the pages. He saw the soul hiding behind the fake name. And he said he was proud.

In that moment, the safety of the pen name suddenly just felt like a cage. If he could look at my heart on a page and tell me it was beautiful, then maybe it actually was. Maybe it's time to tell the world who is actually singing.

I had a melody in my head
and a song on my heart.
The artist in me needed to
let it breathe. 
The guitar, the keyboard, the bass,
but most imporantly
the fiddle. 
It truly made
the perfect melody
to the song I had finally
gained the courage
to sing.

When you tried to kill the music,
when you tried to mute my melody,
my heart just kept singing
because it's just a bunch of noise
when there isn't
a melody
to move it along.