When a writer loses the use their hand, they lose much. It takes patience and time to heal. This poetry collection provides an authentic examination of the poet's life, pain, and recovery. It's an autobiographical look at the poet's – well my – healing process after breaking my wrist. Lots of people break bones, and in that respect, I am not special. It is in the experience of loss and healing that I stand apart. When I was 8 years old my mother died of breast cancer. I broke my wrist about a year later. Something about breaking a bone again brought me back in time, to my grief. Being injured, attempting to heal a new wound, brings old ones back to the surface. I explore that in my collection. Most young adults are healing from something. Everyone puts on a show – a strong front to hide how hard life can be. This collection of poems is raw. In our current world, where image is thought to be everything, this collection probes beneath the surface. It includes dark, uncomfortable moments, even when those moments might seem embarrassing. It acknowledges these moments instead of repressing them or trying to paper over them. They are part of the healing process, too.
