Destinee Bonum

Cinematic and unhurried, my songs live in that ache between wanting and saying — the yearning that gets stuck somewhere behind your ribs. People tell me I say the words stuck in their head, the ones they circle for months before they ever speak them out loud. Live, I play often and up close, in rooms small enough that the silence between songs feels like it's waiting on you too.

I don't over-explain the longing. I just hand it back to you, already halfway said. What's stuck in yours?