Richie Owens

Note to Self: A Reckoning in the Ashes
There are ghosts in the marrow, shadows stitched into the bones. This song is about exorcising them—not with fire and brimstone, but with something quieter, more dangerous. It’s about stepping out of the wreckage and choosing not to become what once caused the pain.
There’s a person—there’s always a person—who takes more than they give, who feeds on devotion like a wolf in a withered pasture. They walk through lives, turning hearts into cradles for their own reflection, leaving behind only ruin. They speak in silvered tongues, weaving a gospel of themselves, and when the mirror cracks, they are already gone, looking for another to polish their shine.
But this isn’t a revenge tale. That would be easy. This is about the long road back, about peeling off the skin they left behind and seeing what remains underneath. It’s about refusing to be swallowed by the poison someone else poured.
Forgiveness? Maybe. But not the kind taught in Sunday school. Not the bow-your-head-and-smile brand. This is the type that burns—it doesn’t erase the past, it doesn’t pretend the scars aren’t there. But it sets you free. The blade’s been pulled out, the wound still weeps, but it isn’t going to fester anymore.
The road ahead isn’t paved in gold. It’s dirt and gravel, the kind that cuts through the soles of your feet. But it’s yours. No longer theirs. And when the night gets long, when the echoes of their voice try to creep in, there’s only one thing left to say:
"I do everything I do to lose my hate for you."
Because hate is a chain, and this song is the breaking of it.