L. V., I Found This Poem When The Sky Washed Us In Gold

L. V., i found this poem in the jaws of a bear trap

L. V., i found this poem when you let me walk around your mind

How much is your book?

All writing collections are free.

L. V., i found this poem buried in the sand

Have you written any response poems to your older poems from years ago?

yup

I love your 'in my drafts' and 'combing through my old poems' posts because as a non-writer (is that even a thing?) it's interesting to see like it's the behind the scenes of a movie. The drafts are especially intriguing. They feel raw and like I'm not supposed to be seeing it but you're letting us take a peek of your writing process. It feels like a secret.

It's a thing now, haha! Thank you for telling me this. I was very hesitant posting those because they might not be pretty enough or something along those lines. But I adore your description. I call it my "poetic autopsy" of sorts, but I like the behind-the-scenes analogy better. And that's the "feeling" I was aiming for with the drafts. To feel "raw", unedited, the emotions and thoughts allowed to run free, finally untethered—and if any of them come back to me, I'll be here to welcome them with open arms.

L. V., skipping to the epilogue

L. V., i found this poem alone in the middle of a crowd

💌send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome.💌

Boop! (⁠/⁠¯⁠◡⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠◡⁠)⁠/⁠¯⁠ 

Aw, this is so sweet! Thank you! 💕

You talked about your old poem titled Literary Vein. Can you direct me to the post? I can't find it anywhere on your page. Thank you!!

I don't think I've posted it before. Maybe snippets of it. But here it is:

Literary Vein

I reread my favourite book today. The plot was the same. The characters, unchanged.

They’re the same age, wearing the same clothes I’d left them in years ago.

The words were unaltered; the pages still smell like Sundays alone at home.

The only thing that changed was the emotions. When I reached the climax,

I did not feel the same rushing excitement I once felt, finding out who the murderer was.

On the contrary you still make me feel

like I could tell you anything even after all these years.

Perhaps in that sense, one could say you are my favourite book.