Storm Witch On The Corner

[Verse 1]
Kids’ shoes by the door
Cold coffee on the counter
There’s laundry like a mountain
In the middle of the room
You’re breathing in fragments
Half a heart in every hallway
Counting all the “have to”s
Till the day feels doomed
[Chorus]
Then the storm witch on the corner
Lays her cards out in the rain
Says, “You’re not here just to endure it
You can bless your own name”
Candles for the chaos
Salt along the floor
You turn your overwhelm to power
You’re not drowning anymore
[Verse 2]
Night falls, sink still shining
With dishes stacked like armor
You circle round the kitchen
Whisper, “This is holy ground”
Moonlight on the window
Over chalk marks on the tiles
You stir a little sugar
Till the curse of rush unwinds
[Chorus]
’Cause the storm witch on the corner
Taught you how to call it in
Every breath a tiny altar
Every bruise a place to mend
Smoke across the ceiling
Water on the door
You turn your exhaustion into laughter
You’re not breaking like before
[Bridge]
Cards on the table
Past, present, future
You ask, “Will I ever feel light again?”
She smiles, “You are the spell
You are the circle
Say your name, and start at the end”
[Chorus]
Now you’re the storm witch on the corner
Bare feet on the kitchen tile
Kids asleep, the house still humming
And your chest wide as the sky
Honey on your heartbeat
Rain along the roof
You turned your heavy life to wonder
Every breath a living proof (oh-oh)
Every breath a living proof

Warm indie folk with subtle occult shimmer; fingerpicked acoustic guitar, brushed snare, and airy pads. Verses stay intimate, close-mic female vocals; chorus blooms with stacked harmonies, tambourine, and gentle floor toms. Bridge brings a hushed, reverent lift with bowed strings and distant choral ooohs before a final, bright chorus release.