"Who are we before we are our stories?"

In A Hope That Doesn't Hurt, Rose explores the landscape of inherited trauma, from the haunted houses she grew up in to the star-filled skies she cursed on her darkest nights. Careless lovers and neglectful gods populate the world she lives in, threatening to drown her in misery, but tenderly, fiercely, she refuses.

Rose faces her fears, not by raising a sword, but by naming them and living loudly to spite them all. This collection brings together stories of heartbreak, confusion, and loss and offers consolation in the form of a mirror to the sky, a hand to lean into, a garden to grow in.

Her hope is that poetry can serve as a medicine, as bitter as it is necessary, and that even as it hurts it can heal.