A review by howlinglibraries
Breathe. Breathe. by Erin Sweet Al-Mehairi
5.0
I love a good poetry collection, but I haven't found one in a while that could make me feel as much as Erin's writing did.
These poems and short stories are not for the faint of heart. The poetry comes from a very raw place in Erin's history, and you can feel her bleeding on the pages as she writes, but as someone who's been there, too? The catharsis and sisterhood I felt here was powerful. I alternated between wanting to hug her and wanting someone to hug me. There's a lot of talk about abuse here, in varying methods, and there's a lot of rage and hopelessness, but there are bright spots, too.
Though so much of Erin's writing resonated with me, one poem in particular that just grabbed my heart and squeezed so tightly was The Society of the Fireflies, which she says she wrote for her daughter, Emma. It starts off in a dark, painful place, but gradually brightens as the misery is washed away. I don't know if I'm projecting here, but I'll tell anyone, any time, that my son's entry into the world made all the hurt that came before him fuzzy and grey. It sounds dramatic, I know, but it's true; there's so much love in my heart now, it doesn't seem like there's as much room for hate and hurt as there once was, and as Erin wrote about those fireflies, I couldn't help but feel like she was saying she understood me, mother to mother.
After the poetry, there are a few short stories, and my favorite of these was the episodic collection of tales that take place on Valhalla Lane, where abuse victims gradually bubble over with rage and hurt until they lash out. I know the author's note at the end ensured the reader that Erin doesn't condone repaying violence with violence, and I'm with her, but I won't pretend I don't enjoy watching a survivor take karma into their own hands every now and then.
Altogether, Breathe. Breathe. is a fantastic collection of poems and stories, and—at risk of sounding cheesy—is a real breath of fresh air. Erin shows a natural talent for writing, and I am so appreciative of the way she bared her soul to the world in her work here.
Just remember, when the pain rises to the surface, don't forget to breathe.
These poems and short stories are not for the faint of heart. The poetry comes from a very raw place in Erin's history, and you can feel her bleeding on the pages as she writes, but as someone who's been there, too? The catharsis and sisterhood I felt here was powerful. I alternated between wanting to hug her and wanting someone to hug me. There's a lot of talk about abuse here, in varying methods, and there's a lot of rage and hopelessness, but there are bright spots, too.
Until one night, the fireflies blink in unison, like small beacons.
Though so much of Erin's writing resonated with me, one poem in particular that just grabbed my heart and squeezed so tightly was The Society of the Fireflies, which she says she wrote for her daughter, Emma. It starts off in a dark, painful place, but gradually brightens as the misery is washed away. I don't know if I'm projecting here, but I'll tell anyone, any time, that my son's entry into the world made all the hurt that came before him fuzzy and grey. It sounds dramatic, I know, but it's true; there's so much love in my heart now, it doesn't seem like there's as much room for hate and hurt as there once was, and as Erin wrote about those fireflies, I couldn't help but feel like she was saying she understood me, mother to mother.
Breathing is not as simple as you think.
After the poetry, there are a few short stories, and my favorite of these was the episodic collection of tales that take place on Valhalla Lane, where abuse victims gradually bubble over with rage and hurt until they lash out. I know the author's note at the end ensured the reader that Erin doesn't condone repaying violence with violence, and I'm with her, but I won't pretend I don't enjoy watching a survivor take karma into their own hands every now and then.
Altogether, Breathe. Breathe. is a fantastic collection of poems and stories, and—at risk of sounding cheesy—is a real breath of fresh air. Erin shows a natural talent for writing, and I am so appreciative of the way she bared her soul to the world in her work here.