The Estate Table

Whispers of a Wounded Heart

Poems from a Borderline

“I have no single, clean recollection of that time. Instead, I hold flashes... shadows stitched together by one relentless refrain: survival.”

I mentioned on the About page that I didn't arrive at any of this by accident — that I started life addicted to substances I never chose, and was abandoned young enough that most of what I know about it comes from records and the people who found me, not memory. Whispers of a Wounded Heart is where I actually tell that story, the way it needed to be told: as poetry, not as a case file.

It's not a comfortable book. It isn't supposed to be. But it's an honest one, and I'd rather someone meet the whole of where I came from than a polished summary of it.