Flowers In Winter: Poems and Illustrations

***5 poem (excerpts) are listed below from each section of the book***
Flowers In Winter is a collection of poetry and prose about love, loss, connection and healing. Through vivid imagery and raw emotion, the author evokes reflection and understanding, elucidating the nuances of being human.

This is a collection of poetry divided into five parts: Discovery & Belonging, Defining Love, Sometimes the Sun Doesn't Rise, Questioning Chaos, & Rainbows After Storm. This is a reflection on the authors life from childhood to adulthood and how she navigates the world while dealing with loss and trying to heal. This book deals shows the brutality of the world we live in through the eyes of the author, while also offering healing and uplifting words that let readers know they are not alone.
***5 poem (excerpts) are listed below from each section of the book*** Discovery & BelongingI miss being ten years old,

skipping bare backed & breathless

on old nylon carpet, toothy grinned.

Painted with innocence, tickled with curiosity,

ignorant to the meaning of sex,

I was.

It didn't take long for me to catch on;

ingest motion pictures piffle

that forced nudity and sex together

in a country where

nakedness is shameful.

Defining Love You are rareA blue moon on a cloudless night.

If leaving your side meant sipping

sanctified waters from

the fountain of youth

I would choose the path of

crows feet and a shriveled skin suit,

so that I may never leave you.

Sometimes the Sun Doesn't Rise
It's been years since you died.

The pain is raw. I loathe it.

It sits like a prisoner,

locked behind my chest,

beyond my rib cage.

If time heals all wounds,

this is a life-long sentence.

Questioning ChaosIf dreams are glimpses of other dimensions,

my other selves are seldom melancholy.

I want their happiness.

In those dimensions they dream as well, wondering the same thing.

They want my happiness.

Rainbows After StormsI flew across

arid emptiness

mossy woodland

blinding glaciers

frosty tundra

and Atlantic slosh

in search of

something

I could only

find

in the crevices of

my heart:

Joy.