I am not the biggest reader of poetry. It intimidates me. I feel like I will fail at reading it; as though just the mere fact that it is poetry means that I won’t understand it. I am working through my own insecurities and exploring genres that I don’t read very much, kind of like a personal project of sorts. I had been seeing this book on various bookish-friends threads, and I was curious. Even better, sometimes they included a photo of a poem that touched them in some way… which is great in building an understanding of said bookish-friend, but also in that I could see a glimpse of the poetry style. And I was intrigued.
You see, the poems that I saw on Litsy or Instagram or what have you reached me. They may have only been 3 lines, they may have been a page, but they stopped me in my scrolling. I read them twice, three times. I understood it.
So I put myself on the waiting list at the library, and it finally came. I didn’t know that this was poetry, but of course it is. It is so raw, so emotional, so beautiful that I just, I don’t know. It grabbed me. I want to send people copies of this book (and in fact already have). I don’t want to return it to the library. This may have opened a whole new world for me, honestly. I hope you read it too.
milk and honey
by rupi kaur
Andrews McMeel Publishing, 2015