I never asked to be born. But now I ask to be seen. Spare me your dread and devote to me your eyes. A poetry collection compiled of personal journal entries . No pattern, nor order. Just fleeting fragments of a young girl's existence, refusing to be fleeting. Written in the tumultuous act of growing up, 'Girl's Flesh' tells a story of love, shame and life.

Jessie wanted a love like in the movies. She has a degree and she has a job and she has friends. But after waiting for years, the one thing she is missing, is to fall in love and to be loved for the first time. A romantic at heart but almost ready to give up on love she finds a love that feels like it was taken from a screen or the pages of a teenage novel. The man who convinces her that love exists is as sweet as she always dreamed, a musician and therefore as interesting as she always hoped and from a different country so falling in love feels even more dramatic. She gets to live the illusion of the fairytale for a year before it all starts to crumble. The man she loved never really existed and she does not know how to pick up the pieces. One half of this book reads like a teenage dream... the other like a nightmare.

Courageously, the author bares her psychological wounds and offers a glimpse into the everyday lives of Black women in thirteen touching short stories. Amongst other subjects, she tackles a persistently denied issue even in present times: Everyday racism and microaggressions. Readers are entreated to acknowledge racism, speak out against it, and lead by example. This empowering book's words will undoubtedly reverberate in the reader's mind for an extended period, leaving an enduring impact. »Today, I call upon you to embrace your beautiful skin with boundless pride. No more shame, no more hiding, and no more succumbing to the allure of bleaching. Unapologetically showcase the world your Black skin, wear your battle scars and triumphs with dignity. Let us now resound with fervor, and may our voices never again be hushed to silence!«

Dear reader, dear lost soul, Are you, too, like Alice? Do you find yourself stumbling through reality in search of Wonderland? Perhaps you discover it in those tiny white and blue pills? Or maybe you light up a joint? Dear reader, are you also alone with your thoughts? Do you yearn for a connection with someone? Are you sometimes prone to self-destruction? This book isn't a self-help guide. It may trigger some, yet prove helpful to others. Venture into the Wonderland that is my chaotic mind through poems and anecdotes. Take my hand, don't be afraid, and journey down the rabbit hole. TRIGGER WARNING: Self-harm, Addiction

[ "My name is Chione," she replied, feeling the truth of the words as they fell from her mouth. The syllables had aligned themselves on her tongue before she even knew to think them, as they always did when she entered this form. Something clicked into place. "Although I am not a who, but a what." ] In a land that has been covered in snow and ice, a girl wanders from town to town. She doesn't remember anything about her past, or who she is, except for the little powder compact in her pocket. Inside the trinket slumbers a magic as ancient as the land itself. When the girl is forced to use her power and recall her name, she is ambushed by a boy who remembers her - as his biggest enemy.

Different voices around the world as a glimpse of reality. A few minutes of a life being lived somewhere on this planet. An echo that needs to be heard. That needs to be listened to. It is based on real life and real events. Having a baby while fleeing the bombs in Ukraine. A blind girl in a minefield. A mother trapped under her collapsed house. A boy starving in the Somali desert. A school not opening for girls in Afghanistan. These are just some of the lost voices that need to speak for themselves. Because otherwise the suffering remains silent and that is the darkest and most hopeless corner of the world that I have ever witnessed.

I think the hardest part about finding someone, that is good for your soul, is never knowing when they will leave. I never lived in that fear, until he was the one who left. But you know, life goes on, until he shows up at my best friends wedding. Looking the same as when I last saw him, just ten years older. Seeing him made me feel like my seventeen year old self again, shorter, with a lot less self respect and a very broken heart. But I guess if two people are meant to be together, they will find their way back to each other, right? Time heals wounds, but does it also heal broken hearts?