Discography

A song I wrote for my father when he was no longer here to hear it. It isn't a goodbye. It's saying out loud what I didn't always say in time.

A song for my mother. Deep down it's just a thank you, the kind that takes years to say out loud.

This isn't a song about disappearing, it's about becoming part of something that keeps existing. Here, dying isn't the opposite of going on.

The title says it already: something that burns but doesn't weigh anything. This is one of those songs where I try to explain why the gentlest thing is sometimes what stays the longest.

This isn't about missing someone who's far away — it's about still loving someone who can't call you back anymore. Here, eternal isn't a figure of speech.