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Something went missing. Maybe it was a name, a shape, or the sound of breathing right. These pages don't promise answers - just traces. A breadcrumb trail of metaphors, tea-stained thoughts, and things that were probably better left unsaid. Thirty poems, scattered like pieces of someone almost recognizable, if slightly unhinged. Some hurt. Some hum. Some just sit there, awkward and quiet, like they weren't sure if they were supposed to be here. Read them in silence or while avoiding responsibilities. Let them echo, or not. Either way, something happens. Probably. Hopefully. Honestly? Who knows.…mehr

Produktbeschreibung
Something went missing. Maybe it was a name, a shape, or the sound of breathing right. These pages don't promise answers - just traces. A breadcrumb trail of metaphors, tea-stained thoughts, and things that were probably better left unsaid. Thirty poems, scattered like pieces of someone almost recognizable, if slightly unhinged. Some hurt. Some hum. Some just sit there, awkward and quiet, like they weren't sure if they were supposed to be here. Read them in silence or while avoiding responsibilities. Let them echo, or not. Either way, something happens. Probably. Hopefully. Honestly? Who knows.
Autorenporträt
Soudrita Kusari is a eighteen-year-old student who accidentally wrote a poetry book while trying to avoid everything else on their to-do list. This is their first published collection - which is impressive considering the attention span of a goldfish and the emotional range of a 3 a.m. playlist. When not spiraling in lowercase, they enjoy being mildly chaotic, collecting oddly specific thoughts, and pretending it's all part of the plan. It's not. But here we are. Based in India, they currently live somewhere between caffeine-fueled ambition and nap schedules that make no sense.