Palo Santo

I keep my lighter in the car — for protection, for peace, for permission to breathe.

This one's a ritual, not just a song. Smoke rising while memories fall, every flick of the flame calling my spirit back. I don't burn bridges — I burn burdens. I don't light candles — I light purpose.

"Windows cracked, night air listenin'. Ashes drift like commas — punctuation of my healing. I ride these streets with ancestors hummin'. Every spark of the flame says something better's coming."

Clear the space, shift the tone. This is more than smoke — it's how I get home.