I found my opinion of this book incredibly similar to my opinion on Rupi Kaur's Milk and Honey. Parts of it were beautiful, enough to give this a positive review, but for most of it I found myself waiting for those moments of greatness. It didn't seem like it was ever enough to push this book into something memorable, although I'll probably skim through some of the poems a bit in the future.

About two thirds of it felt like it was trying to tell a cohesive story, but then the other third seemed random and disjointed, which was a bit off putting for me personally.

I dunno. These kinds of poetry memoirs just might not be my thing, no matter how much I want to enjoy them. Honestly, read a quick except and you'll know pretty fast if it's gonna be your thing or not. I'm absolutely glad I read it, even if it didn't quite live up to my expectations.