I Am Tired Of Being A Dandelion

"...and trying to get you to blow me away" "Both gentle and electrifying. Left me speechless." – Makenzie Campbell, author of 2am Thoughts Like finding a four-leaf clover, breaking a fortune cookie, wishing on a shooting star, or blowing a dandelion, this collection is written from a place of hope. Life presents a multitude of moments we hope work in our favor. One moment has us building a fortress of daydreams and anticipation, and the next it may come crumbling down. Yet, no matter how many times our hopes fall, we seem to be able to rebuild them again and again. i am tired of being a dandelion explores the spectrum of hope in romance and self-love, along with the hope to grow to become the best version of oneself.

"I have never been anything but a paper girl. Something to tear into pieces. Something to burn." We've all been paper before. We've all been fragile. Leaf-like and gently blowing. Enough to create stories or build fires. So, we go through life like that. We come across the things that tear us into pieces, and we keep going. We keep fighting because we must. We look for ways to be whole. To be the person we dream to be. Fragile by nature, but tough by circumstance, paper girls are shaped by their love and loss. This collection of poetry and prose describes the journey of learning to live fully through the messiness of life and tenuousness of mental health.

The Surrender Theory begins deep within the thick of heartbreak, gets lost in the vibrancy of new love, and then eventually rediscovers itself in a place of peace and closure. It's about learning to grow alongside grief. About taking the hand of your younger self and forgiving them. Through pages of truisms and poems, this debut collection from Caitlin Conlon explores the boundaries of our most poignant and human emotions. Both deeply personal and universal, The Surrender Theory will speak to anyone that's put their heart out into the world and hoped with everything in them that it would come home unscathed.

From the author of the wildly successful 2am Thoughts and Nineteen comes Rooms of the Mind — a journey into the parts of our psyche that can either hide and protect us or expose us to all that exists. Here you'll find an exploration of pain, heartbreak, and wonder at what the world might bring us next.

the sea breaks around my feetbefore moving out again like an inhaled breath.above the water, a mass of starlingstwist and collapse in on themselvesbefore bursting out in an explosion of tiny bones.I watch the birds beyond the iron carrionand by now the water is below my knees. I look down and wonderif any amount of salt could drownthe monsters in my blood. Murmuration is a year's worth of emotions, anxious thoughts and panic attacks, each one a beating wing in the mind of the author.This book is an attempt to create something beautiful from this chaos; to make sense of the things we dare not breathe to life. Focusing on loss, heartbreak, mental health, and the impact of isolation on a tired mind, these poems are the starlings that gather above the water. These pages are the hope that we can learn to heal; that the future can survive the past.

"Wear poetry as both perfume and armor." Wong's words and artistry are both vibrant with color, richly textured, defiant, and unapologetic in their boldness. Her speaker begins her spiritual journey of remembrance that transcends body, tradition, or even nation in the pursuit of authentic art that is constructed through the radical acceptance of the past in order to leave it all behind. Turning to Wallpaper is a story where no wounds are left unconfronted or softened. It is beautiful, without beauty. There is "pain, but no victimhood."

"If you've ever been in love with longing, this is a must read." — Michaela Angemeer, author of you'll come back to yourself and when he leaves you In his third poetry collection, Itch, Zane Frederick scratches memory. He pokes the bear of his past. Ventures further out into its woods to see what still lurks and what needs to be settled. Itch captures the complexity of revisiting memory and the whirlwind of emotions that emerge from loose ends that have yet to be tied up. He shouts into the void and calls out the skeletons in his closet. He lets anger out like a beast locked away. He is stuck in a limbo between holding on and letting go, finding his way out of the forest that held his most rotted roots. Itch is about forgiving but never forgetting. It's about taking the armor off and going home. It challenges the notion that our scars won't always sting, but embraces the sting as a reminder of what we've healed from.

The summer of '28 was a vintage season for a growing boy. A summer of green apple trees, mowed lawns, and new sneakers. Of half-burnt firecrackers, of gathering dandelions, of Grandma's belly-busting dinner. It was a summer of sorrows and marvels and gold-fuzzed bees. A magical, timeless summer in the life of a twelve-year-old boy named Douglas Spaulding—remembered forever by the incomparable Ray Bradbury. The only god living in Green Town, Illinois, that Douglas Spaulding knew of. The facts about John Huff, aged twelve, are simple and soon stated. • He could pathfind more trails than any Choctaw or Cherokee since time began. • Could leap from the sky like a chimpanzee from a vine. • Could live underwater two minutes and slide fifty yards downstream. • Could hit baseballs into apple trees, knocking down harvests. • Could jump six-foot orchard walls. • Ran laughing. • Sat easy. • Was not a bully. • Was kind. • Knew the words to all the cowboy songs and would teach you if you asked. • Knew the names of all the wild flowers and when the moon would rise or set and when the tides came in or out. He was, in fact, the only god living in the whole of Green Town, Illinois, during the twentieth century that Douglas Spaulding knew of. “[Ray] Bradbury is an authentic original.”—Time