12/28/2025
This song live inside a photographer–model dynamic where one person controls the lens, the framing, the edits, and the future opportunities—and the other is taught not to question opportunity.
Where professionalism, creativity, and charm quietly replace consent. Where silence gets mistaken for agreement.
I was young. New. I thought I was there for a photoshoot. What followed didn’t look violent from the outside. It was quiet. Incremental. Framed as collaboration. That’s what makes it hard to name—and why so many survivors blame themselves afterward.
This isn’t about one man.
It’s about a pattern.
I’m sharing it because naming the structure helped my body stop carrying the confusion alone. I write the music for myself first, and I leave breadcrumbs in case anyone else recognizes this shape.
If this resonates, you’re welcome to read the blog and lyrics.
If it doesn’t, thank you for holding space anyway.
🖤 May what was framed as “art” stop blurring what your body knew.
May authority loosen its grip on your memory.
A little crow’s on the wire, keeping watch over you.
The song and album are streaming on all platforms.
This song is about a photographer–model dynamic where authority, access, and silence did most of the harm. I wrote it from his voice to expose how professionalism, creativity, and opportunity can quietly override consent. When one person controls the lens, the frame, and the future, discomfort oft...
