Loui Crow, Omaha, NE (2026)

Breadcrumbs for anyone walking beside me. 🤲🏻🐦‍⬛
louicrow.com

06/05/2026

I got to explore my eating disorder, my bulimia, the years depression kept me in a chokehold, the chronic pain and illness that made every glance at the glass feel like punishment. I also dug into the triggers I had around other women — the jealousy, weight gain, the comparison, the way my body swelled next to a pretty laugh. That came from partners who chose addiction to p**n over me. I don't say that to blame anyone. I say it because naming the source helps me stop carrying the hurt.

This album follows the Abraham Hicks emotional scale from bottom to top. Here's where each track lands:

1. Avoiding Mirrors — Depression / powerlessness
2. Mirror Hissed First — Anger / rage
3. Right Eye — Frustration / irritation
4. Chewed Up Bubblegum — Pessimism / boredom
5. Train of Thought — Frustration → hopefulness
6. Mirror, Mirror off the Wall — Contentment / hopefulness
7. 11:11 — Optimism / positive expectation
8. Youniverse — Enthusiasm / eagerness
9. Little One Inside — Hope / love
10. The One Between — Stillness / witness
11. Well‑Being Wants Me — Receiving
12. The Next Rung — Empowerment
13. Surprises and Delights — Joy / freedom
14. I Don't Care — Freedom / empowerment
15. Let the Answer In — Receiving / trust
16. Things Are Working Out For Me — Trust / positive expectation
17. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you — Gratitude / love

Avoiding Mirrors is not streaming yet. It will be part of my Mirror, Mirror, of the WVLL album.

I use Suno for vocals and instrumentals. The voice is seeded from my own. I'm a disabled veteran and a stay‑at‑home mom — just a woman trying to learn how to look in the mirror and love herself a little more every day. I share breadcrumbs in case they resonate.

I've been terrible at replying to comments and messages for months. I had to step back for my mental health. I also avoid being on my phone very much. Between writing, parenting, and just trying to survive, social media ends up last. But when I do see your words, I appreciate every single one.

I hope you meet yourself a little kinder in the glass today. 🐦‍⬛

LYRICS:
If you go to the shadows to launch what you want,
go.
But most don't come back.
That was me. I almost stayed there.
The mirror went dark.

[VERSE 1]
I pretend I'm still asleep so the day can't find me.
My thoughts think themselves.
If my eyes catch the glass, my stomach sinks.
I bully me.
Call myself ugly. Call myself stupid.
My reflection feels like a stranger I failed.
I feed the hunger, then I send it back.
No one hears the gag. No one hears the sob.
I wash my rings. Brush my teeth with my eyes down.
I cancel plans. Don't answer texts.
My body is a rock. My will is a whisper.
The world feels like a fist —
I'm always in its way.
The mirror watches.
It shows me a world that never works out for me.

[PRE‑CHORUS]
Others say "just think positive" —
like I haven't tried?
The mirror waits.

[CHORUS]
I don't look.
Avoiding mirrors — I stay off the hook.
Avoiding mirrors — Looking brings the past too near.

[VERSE 2]
Pretty walks by.
I eat a burger, chew the grief down.
My body swells with every woman I see.
Each one a version I'll never be.
The trigger hits.
My cover slips.
I’m not fine. (not fine)
My body is a wound I keep reopening.
The hurt lives in my fingernails.
I shred at my arms.
Claw marks. Sometimes I bleed.
Cuts on my thighs, where no one can see.
Summer is a season I survive.
I won’t wear shorts, don’t wanna be seen.
Pain is my loyal company.
Baggy clothes, blankets, arms across—
I cover my stomach like it carries the loss.
Liposuction, new breasts,
face scraped down raw.
The mirror shows me what I paid to become.
Can’t look at me, can’t look at my face.
The wound is old wishes.
I wish I was pretty.
I wish I liked me.

[OUTRO]
I'm ready to look. I let the silence rise.
I let the tears come.

06/01/2026

Dirty mirror, don't care — I was too excited to share.

I've been diving hard into my mirror lately, and I'm actually really excited to say that "Mirror, Mirror off the Wall" is going to be part of an album now. I've already written three more songs for this project, including "Right Eye" — which explains more of why I look into my right eye and tells the story behind it.

I'm already obsessed with this album.

The original song "Mirror, Mirror off the Wall" is streaming everywhere right now. The new ones aren't up yet (still working on them), but I wanted to share a little piece of "Right Eye" here.

I write the lyrics. I use Suno for the vocals and instrumentals, but the vocals are seeded from my voice. I'm a disabled veteran and a day at home mom. I'm just a woman learning to look 🪞 🖤🐦‍⬛

LYRICS:
I discovered the static gaze into my right eye on accident.
I watch myself.
The critic gets bored.
(Right eye.)

[verse]
A spider woman lives in my right eye.
Her eyes are closed but she sees it all.
I hold her gaze, time falls away.
She weaves scattered memories into a web I can finally see.
I've been scared to look before. But now it's my door.
The past rearranges. I hear her whisper crawling up my cheek,
"You've been here before.”
She knows all the angles I stood just out of frame.
She stayed in the quiet, my tears were her rain.
I can turn out the light, but I know what she sees.

[pre chorus]
There’s two of me in the glass today
One glares back, and one wants to play.
I trust the one who stayed

[chorus]
(Right eye. Right eye.)
Some days I forget I’ve got eyes at all.
I move like a ghost with my back to the wall.
She knows what I hide when I say I’m okay.
She knows every secret I drown in the sink.
(Right eye. Right eye.)
What if the mirror remembers it all?
(The mirror remembers it all.)

[verse 2]
I asked the spider, “Why do I always freeze?”
She said, “You’re still trying to release.
I said, “How do I make this stop?”
She breathed.
and my whole world dropped.
I look away. She watches back.
I leave the mirror. She stays the same.
She sees my mouth rehearsing pain,
Before I even know I’m doing it again.
She saw what happened and refuses to flatter it.
She tells me, “Every start begins inside the place you’ve never been.”

[pre chorus]
There’s two of me in the glass today
One glares back, and one wants to play.
I trust the one who stayed

[chorus]
(Right eye. Right eye.)
Some days I forget I’ve got eyes at all.
I move like a ghost with my back to the wall.
She knows what I hide when I say I’m okay.
She knows every secret I drown in the sink.
(Right eye. Right eye.)
What if the mirror remembers it all?
(The mirror remembers it all.)

[Bridge]
Her web is a maze. I run in place.
All those years avoiding this half of my face.
I think she watches me sleep.
I think she knows what I keep.
The truth sits shallow — sewn in the seams.

[chorus]
(Right eye. Right eye.)
Some days I forget I’ve got eyes at all.
I move like a ghost with my back to the wall.
She knows what I hide when I say I’m okay.
She knows every secret I drown in the sink.
(Right eye. Right eye.)
What if the mirror remembers it all?
(The mirror remembers it all.)

[outro ]
I show up for me in my right eye.
She weaves the old shame into something new.
My smile turns real with her watching my face.
I trust the one who stayed.
(Right eye. Right eye. Right eye.)

05/27/2026

I filmed this video last year. I miss my yard — the green, the quiet, the space to just be and look at myself and be outside.

I found Louise Hay years ago, but it took me a long time to actually speak in the mirror. I’d get angry, shut down, feel like a liar. Every affirmation tasted fake. So my husband had an idea — try saying them in the shower first. No mirror. Just water and sound.

He led by example. I’d overhear him in the shower, saying his own affirmations, and something in me softened. So I tried. I started with just two phrases: “I am willing to love myself. I am willing to change.” Over and over. No pressure. No performance.

Eventually, I could look in the mirror here and there. A wink. A hand on the glass like I was touching my inner child’s hand. Small things.

Here’s what helped me when a full mirror felt like too much:

· A small handheld mirror. A compact. Even a spoon or a rearview.
· Low lighting. You don’t have to see every detail.
· Start with “willing.” Not “I love you.” Just “I’m willing.”
· Let yourself cry. Get mad. The mirror will hold it.
· There aren’t many places where we’re allowed to feel the uncomfortable stuff. The mirror is one of them.

This was one of the first mirror videos I ever posted. It still resonates. I share it every once in a while because if Louise Hay hadn’t put herself out there, I wouldn’t be where I am. So I share as I go.

I’m a disabled veteran, a stay‑at‑home mom, and a woman unpacking herself so I don’t hand my stuff down to my son. This is one of the ways I do it. I don’t say anything I can’t believe. I just started with willing and eventually it started getting easier to look.

Crows on the wire, looking with you 🖤 🐦‍⬛

05/25/2026

Trigger warning | SA | DV | child abuse | Father Wound | generational trauma

This song is for Old Bones — the album where I go back and rebuild the songs I deleted out of fear of hurting their feelings. The ones I was too scared to let exist.

Honestly though, they're never going to listen to my music. No one I know listens. It's all strangers.

The dad songs have been the hardest to write. They’re also becoming my favorites.

I write the lyrics. I seed my own voice. I use Suno for the vocals and instrumentals. My inner child, Sarah, never got to sing. Now she does.

I make this music for myself. For her. Sharing is just breadcrumbs.

He Loved Me, So Why Am I Still Empty?
Song not streaming (yet)

Crows on the wire, digging up the old bones. 🐦‍⬛

☆
LYRICS:
My Daddy was conceived in violence — his mother was r*ped at fifteen.
Born into a world that was cruel and mean.
Then came his stepfather. The bottle. The belt.
He learned to run from the hand he was dealt.

[Verse 1]
Scapegoat from the start — the unwanted son of a beginning that no one chose.
Stepdad beat him within inches of death — his mother bruised, his childhood froze.
At sixteen, he grabbed a knife, put it to his stepfather’s throat.
“Touch her again and you’re dead.”
The beating stopped. His stepdad fled.
Daddy built a wall around the boy who couldn’t be held.
That boy became my father — a fortress in a shell.
He never learned to cry, so he learned to yell.

[Pre‑Chorus]
“I’m gonna get my stick” — never aimed at me.
Never swung at us, but the dogs knew.
Daddy did his best to pass the peace — but you can’t love right when your nerves are fried.

[Chorus]
He loved me. He told me every day.
The words were there, but the feeling never reached me.
He loved me. So why am I still empty?
(He loved me. So why am I still empty?)

[Verse 2]
Long after I left home, Daddy forgave his stepfather before he died.
He broke the cycle.
He carved love in monologues — held the hit in a knuckle‑white bite.
Did better than his stepfather’s fist. Survived the belt.
He tried to spare me.
But as a man who never got to cry — he just passed down the ache he survived.
If he could forgive the one who beat him, why can’t I let him be?
Even knowing his pain was worse — the hand that drifted won’t set me free.

[Bridge]
Daddy would tell me, “Others have it worse.”
He walked through hell — I know. I know, it’s true.
But that doesn’t mean I didn’t crack too.
And I’m still not fine.

[Outro]
Daddy broke the cycle — didn’t hit me.
He just never learned how to be soft.
I still don’t know how to let him in.
I’m still wondering how he forgave — and why I can’t.
(He loved me. So why am I still empty?)

Address

Omaha, NE
68111

Website

http://www.louicrow.com/

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