II

Desire Reigns – EP

Born in the hollow space of each “come down,” this six-track EP is the nocturnal

pulse of Desire Reigns’ underlying grief and reflection. Crafted as a sonic diary

during the aftermath of the novella’s ritual dynamics, the music distills moments of

crash and recovery into brooding electronics, fractured beats, and confessional

vocals.

Here, slam-poetry verses—“All-night crawling on my knees…Your hand slipped

fast on my face. I felt like nothing.”—collide with a haunted pre-chorus that admits,

“Guess what—I’m feeling bad,” and a mantra-like chorus, “When will this bitch

slow down?” Each lyric is a raw confession of addiction’s push and pull, of chasing

highs that become hollow (“My hole’s a casino—place your bet”) and rehearsing

toughness to mask shame.

Interludes of whispered reflection—“you need to feel free / i need to feel seen”—

weave hope through the darkness, while closing refrains (“Every night…i try to be

enough”) underscore the relentless search for meaning and connection. More than

a soundtrack to Desire Reigns, this EP is its emotional core

SLAM POETRY

VERSE 1]

All-night crawling on my knees,

He Shot so much, we lost the keys.

Limbs don’t hold, they just displease—

Your hand slipped fast on my face. I felt like nothing.

Fuckcoins flipping, high demand.

My hole’s a casino—place your bet,

Skin sells fast, ain’t cashed out yet.

I had a crush last night.

but its was a rushbone, never my backbone.

Always a test, never the real shit.

[Pre-Chorus]Time to get pretty

been marinating bleak.

But now I’m low.

Now I’m down.

Guess what—

I’m feeling bad.

[Chorus]

When will this bitch slow down?

When will this bitch slow down?

When will this bitch slow down?

What’s wrong? Don’t even ask.

[Verse 2]”

If I say goodnight and come back online,

it wasn’t a lie—it’s just a fail.

It wasn’t my life—it was just face.

I wasn’t myself—it was someone else.

[Bridge]

I hate it when they ask if I’m okay—

nah bitch, I’m in the misery business.

Let’s take it from the top.

Don’t care whose birthday it is—

when you hit that G, it’s mine.

Too pregnant with success overnight—

but every morning I miscarriage

Always His Panic.

Never His Peace.

[Chorus – final, extended]

When will this bitch slow down?

When will this bitch slow down?

When will this bitch slow down?

Whats wrong ? Dont even ask!