it’s all muted blue
the walls,
the love,
the sunflowers,
and there are no colors to paint it over
i cannot find them
it has been 5109 days
and i might just start counting again
it has been 1309 days
and it might just be the last
what is will?
the fox died some time ago
and the sunflowers are wilting too
what is purpose?
if the music doesn’t feel alive
the words are only a collection of jumbled letters
and i only see blue at the end of the tunnel
– gretchen gomez
Welcome to my biased review today!!!! And biased because the author, Anne Chivon, is my best friend. But also LET’S WISH MY BUNNY A VERY HAPPY BOOK BIRTHDAY BECAUSE IT’S RELEASE DAY!!!!!
For today’s post I will be gushing about Drowned In Milk Tea and why you should get it (cause it’s awesome).
Title: Drowned In Milk Tea
Author: Anne Chivon
Genre: Poetry
Publisher: Creative Aces Publishing
Rating: 5 stars
Synopsis:
After her debut Cottontail Games: monsters and lovers Anne Chivon is back with Drowned In Milk Tea. A chapbook about the good and bad times that take place when one first falls in love, and how she coped with the memories that left both a sweet, and bitter, taste behind.
This chapbook has content warnings of the following: suicide implications, partner abuse, eating disorders/body image issues, drug mention, blood mention. (All content warnings are listed as such in the chapbook).
First thing I want to say is that the paperback is the way to go for this particular book because it has writing prompts every other page which I absolutely loved. We get a prompt, poem, prompt, poem, so on and so forth. Therefore you can write and read at the same time and that concept is spot on.
Drowned In Milk Tea is filled with poems about love, loose, coping with bittersweet memories after a person is no longer in your life, and the aftereffects of that. It has poems about the good times and the bad times. There were some poems where I felt like the author was fighting herself for loving this person. Drowned In Milk Tea has poems covered in beautiful imagery and metaphors. The poems carry impact and reach to the heart. Anne Chivon does not hold back and keeps it real.
Like I’ve said before, I don’t rate poetry books based on connection. However, I did connect with these poems in a whole other level. I also want to add that the prompts and poetry made me reflect more on Anne’s poems. They were thought provoking.
Because this is a chapbook, I’m only going to share two poems from the collection.
together we
burned so hot
it charred your heart
and when we kissed
i choked on the smoke
pouring past your lipsand somehow
every day i think of
your smoldering kiss
and how it left my lips
sensitive to touch
i thought the more
i let my bones go free
meant the more i could
shrink away from you
like sugar dissolving
with the stir of a spoon
and finally i could do this
disappearing act
right before your eyes
Instagram: @chicnerdreads
Twitter: @chicnerdreads
depression is the elephant in the room
it is the answer to all the questions i get asked
depression is not the reason i don’t get out of bed
because i still do
depression doesn’t pay my bills
but it is the reason why i won’t see you
i avoid you
at all cost
i am scared
these tears will fall like summer rain
and it wasn’t even part of the forecast
depression
i never asked for this
this hollow feeling
my chest has been ripped out
and it hurts
everything hurts
i want to apologize for all the times
i haven’t been there for you
depression has been visiting me
and you know how it is
we need to be the best hosts to our guests
i’m sorry
i’m so sorry that i’m not present
i’m sorry that i forget to text back
i’m sorry for never DMing you that meme
i saw on instagram
i swear to everything i thought about you
i’m sorry for being such a shitty friend
i’m sorry
i hope you understand that i’ve been busy
attending my visitor who didn’t even bother
to let me know they were coming
you say feminist like if i’m going home
with you tonight. you say feminist like if
we flirtin’ all night. like if..life if i’m gettin’
wet for you tonight. oh, you ain’t know?
it’s the sahara desert down there.
you say feminist the same way you
say babygirl and mami. you know i
like that shit. you say it like if..like if
you’re waiting for me to call you papi.
the only man i call papi is my papi.
the man who gave me life and wings to fly.
you say feminist in the same breath you
degrade women. like if..like if i’m supposed
to take that as a compliment. like if a man
runs up on her, you expect me to say that
she deserves it cause her skirt too short.
oh you ain’t know? i like wearing the skirts
and the dresses that hug the curves i was
blessed with. does that mean i deserved it too?
you say feminist like if gold drips out your
mouth and i’m supposed to swallow it.
thank you for the flaunting, i’ll see myself out now.
i never talk about this. being bipolar. because you automatically think that i’m happy one second and really angry the next. being bipolar is staying up all night researching the 3 states i’ll most likely move to, knowing the exact towns, looking at homes, calculating the money that i have/i’ll make and see if it’s worth the investment.
being bipolar is creating a thought in my head,painting a scenario, feeding it, yelling action, then yelling cut, adding another scene, taking away characters that don’t add up to the story, and finally falling asleep. but i only sleep for an hour or so at a time till my body twitches for the next fucking extremity. this next extremity is hungry for information. it’s 3 in the goddamn morning and i’m searching “cold cases” which subconsciously i know i shouldn’t do. you see, they’ll feed into my paranoia and when i’m in this extreme state, there is no stopping me, what is rationalizing?
nothing is satisfying me at this point, i’m delusional, i’ve written so many dark things on the notebook i keep on my nightstand. poems that i tell myself, maybe i’ll share them on instagram one day. now i’m thinking about instagram and my writing and i start getting angry at how the world thinks likes on instagram means success. what does success mean to me? it means quality, now i’m searching for books on being a quality writer and i’ve added all these books to my private wishlist on amazon. i already checked out these writers online but i don’t follow any of them. so i just keep writing and writing and writing, nonsense, none of it makes sense. my alarm rings at 6:50am but who needs an alarm when you’ve been up all night? my best friends text me wishing a great day. the guy who still checks on me from time to time tells me he loves me. my neighbor says good morning while he goes outside to smoke a cigarette. and no one knows that i’ve just had a manic episode and that soon i’ll isolate myself because i’m hollow now and i’m crying for no reason. i’m falling from the high.
Instagram: @chicnerdreads
Twitter: @chicnerdreads
Title: Baptized in Moonlight
Author: Morgan Scott
Genre: Poetry
Publisher: Morgan Scott
Format: Paperback
Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
Pub. Date: November 24, 2018
Synopsis:
In this collection of poems, Morgan Scott depicts the story of a young girl turned ferocious woman, and ties her growth to the phases of the moon. Written with the intimacy and unflinching honesty of an untamed spirit scorned and reborn, Baptized in Moonlight is a book for anyone who has ever felt as if the odds were stacked against them. Filled with painful acknowledgments of broken relationships – and the hope of a life lived with wild passion – you will dive to the depths and ascend to new peaks as you begin your own journey through the lunar cycle. This collection is part heartbreak story, part coming of age, part love song, and part battle cry. You will find yourself among the pages, and be spurred to get to know yourself on a deeper level.
Baptized in Moonlight is divided into 4 sections titled Waning, New, Waxing, and Full. Each phase of the moon (section) is tied to the authors growth, her journey, and things she has gone through. This poetry collection has themes of heartbreak, healing, abuse, finding yourself, spirituality, motherhood, self-love, and acceptance.
it is heavy
to carry my sadness
over my shoulder
every place i traveland yet
she is the only consistent
friend that i have ever knownand there is comfort
in knowing
that she will never
leave meno matter how hard i try
to release her
I really enjoyed this collection and read it in a few sittings, wanting to take it all in slowly. I loved how the author not only named the sections the phases of the moon but she also gave it definition. The poems in this collection are longer than what I usually see nowadays in poetry collections and I loved that too!! Morgan Scott really conveys her emotions and impact with her words. There are also illustrations sprinkled throughout the book which gave it an extra touch.
love is not slipping
not choking
it is not bending
as far backwards as your body can
until it breakslove is not toeing the line
between anger and passion
worried that one wrong move
will land you in terrorlove is not hiding yourself
trying to contort into his dream girllove is not dumbing yourself down
to make him appear smarterlove is not not not not not not
the rush of air before his palm
strikes your cheekso don’t believe him when
he tells you it is
because the picture he has built of love
is one that temporarily plugs his wounds
while ripping yours open
Although I don’t rate poetry books based on connection, I ended up really connecting with the poems and author. Specifically with her poems about god, spirituality, self (surrounding those previous themes mentioned). It felt nice to feel understood in that aspect. I really appreciate the author just being straight forward and not making it pretty. Poetry that is raw like this really gets me in my feels. I found myself dog earring (yes, judge me) a lot of her poems. Overall, I would highly recommend this poetry collection! Also, the author is super freaking sweet and you should check her out. Her links will be at the bottom!
women are born full
full of magic
and tendernessour hands
and our hearts
have carried the weight of
the entire galaxy
for generationswe could tap into our
mother energy
and heal the world of pain
if only you would
move out of our way
Author Links:
Instagram
Amazon
Instagram: @chicnerdreads
Twitter: @chicnerdreads
i write today with sadness / all that’s left of me / here drenched for the world to see / i count lately / i count how long i’ll last here / i count the time i have / the time to my explosion / here is my truth / i’ve become a ghost myself / the insanity is me now / depression is a home where i lay my head to rest and i can’t find a way to move out / i am trapped here / i find a window to escape from / somehow i come back / i write today with sadness / i’ve always written with sadness / here is the truth you don’t see
hey everyone!!! i know it’s been a very long time. i hope you are all doing well. life has been really busy and honestly i haven’t read this year at all (i mean i read one book and i didn’t even love it tbh) but that’s for another post! i’m currently writing this and super emotional because this second poetry collection wouldn’t be here without any of you. this poetry collection started here on this blog in august of 2016 as people i once knew. i remember posting about two poems a month in regards to this blog series. and your feedback and love for each and every poem is something that has really helped me write this book. this collection has been really hard to write and a different process from love, and you. here’s the cover to people i once knew now titled welcome to ghost town.
welcome to ghost town is divided into 25 ghosts (parts) and each has the original poem that was on this blog plus 2-5 more shorter poems after. this is the synopsis:
these are the stories of
people i once knew.
they have come and
gone like ghosts in
the night. you might
not be a part of my
life anymore but
you’re still the ghosts
who haunt me.
– welcome to ghost town
this collection releases october 23rd and you can officially add it on goodreads!
Instagram: @chicnerdreads
Twitter: @chicnerdreads
this is a poem of how
i break my own heart
every single time
with every person
that has crossed
paths my way
i think about all
the ways you’ll
hurt me before
you ever see
my first smile
i think about how
much i’ll long for
you when we both
walk away from
whatever this is
i think about each
breath and how i’ll
become obsessed
reading your text
messages over and
over again just to
wear myself out
i think about how
i’ll see you with
someone else and
cry over the sadness
about how i’m going
through the same
shit again
and so i never
commit to anything
because i’ll be broken
before our first date
chicnerdreads 