๐ซ ANNOUNCEMENT: My First Book Is Here! ๐ซ
๐ซ ANNOUNCEMENT: my first book is here! ๐ซ
you can buy ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ญ๐ข๐ฏ๐ค๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ญ๐ช๐ข ๐ช๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฎ๐ช๐ญ๐ฌ๐บ ๐ธ๐ข๐บ through the link below if you're interested (and if you do like it, please consider leaving a review if you've the time).
it has been a dream of mine for so long and now it's a reality (though it does still feel a bit surreal, even as i hold it in my hands). with the help of my talented illustratorโmy brotherโi am finally able to share it with you all!
this book is essentially my heart and soul and i do hope you find a place for it in yours. thank you for all of your support; your sweet words and appreciation for my poetry has made this journey even more worthwhile.
available formats are paperback and kindle on Amazon. i hope you enjoy! ๐ฅฐ๐ซ
More Posts from Moonlitmirror and Others
When there are gaps in knowledge, the vacuum can be filled with myth, especially in reference to a woman, and an unusual woman at that.
Patricia Pierce, Jurassic Mary
We are more than what we appear
layers of voices beyond a moonlit mirror
silver threads wrapping around your ears
a darkness light cannot make clearer
you never truly appreciate the intimacy of the expression โI'll gut you like a fishโ until you actually gut a fish
โAccept how you feel but donโt let feelings rule you. You are in control. You are not their slave.โ
โ Unknown
I am good. I am loved.
Even in shadow
does nature thrive
a silent spectre
full of bristling sighs
with a glimmer
the light then shows
the blooming tree preserved
alive in its shadow
I was a gifted child. Until I wasn't. I was the golden girl. Until I couldn't burn anymore.
My parents expected me to build wings of gold and fly further than anyone could ever try. I don't blame them, having a child to raise is like sculpting a clay pot, you can shape it the way you like, paint it the colour you fancy. To raise a child is to play God. To raise a child is to be God.
But to be a child is to fall, to make mistakes, to fail. The thing about being too bright at an early age means you burn out by the time you're 16 and suddenly the world around you becomes more gray and terribly, terribly lonely. The fire is never warm enough, nothing is ever enough. And one day you find yourself begging to a godless sky, begging for a new spark.
I was a gifted child once. I was the golden girl. And one day, I burned out.
-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire
I am hollow in this coursing wind, a brightened shell and song within.
I am raging in this ocean sky, the greying light a burning sign.
I am buried in my absent mind, wrapped and beating this blurry sound.
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Historian, writer, and poet | proofreader and tarot card lover | Virgo and INTJ | dyspraxic and hypermobile | You'll find my poetry and other creative outlets stored here. Read my Substack newsletter Hidden Within These Walls. Copyright ยฉ 2016 Ruth Karan.
179 posts