This book of poems reached into places I didn’t even know were still tender. It was soft, but it hit hard. Every word felt intentional—like Kaitlan wasn’t just writing poems, she was holding up a mirror, whispering, “You’ve felt this too, haven’t you?”

There were moments I had to pause. Breathe. Re-read a line because it felt too familiar. The emotions in these pages? Real. Raw. And deeply relatable. I saw myself in these poems—in the heartbreak, the healing, the confusion, the hope. And in those quiet, powerful moments, I felt that sense of “Wow, I’m not alone.” That right there is sacred.

Kaitlan, thank you for being so open, for offering your truth with such grace. You didn’t just share your words—you shared yourself. Your voice holds the weight of culture, of womanhood, of survival, and you gave it to us so beautifully.

This collection is more than poetry—it’s a safe space. A soft place to land. And I’m grateful for it.