milkblack — Paperback

This is a pre-order. Ships May 12, 2026.

Pre-Order Details

• Format: Paperback
• Printed on demand via Bookvault
• You’ll receive tracking once it ships

Description:

This book began in fragments—random notes here and there, lines of thought caught in passing, standing in a checkout line or halfway through a conversation. An attention to observation I couldn’t ignore. Things I needed to write down before they settled too deeply into the body—into the kind of quiet abyss chronic pain can turn it into if you let it sit too long.

What started as a private language became a record of living in real time.

milkblack moves through the lived realities of womanhood as I have known them—through the body, through memory, through inheritance. I write toward the moments that resist easy language: what it costs to be visible, what it means to carry history while still being asked to exist in the present, and how I have learned to move inside systems that were never built with me in mind. The work does not smooth the edges. It stays with the truth of it, even when the truth is inconvenient, unfinished, or hard to hold.

This work was written in the midst of chronic illness—an undercurrent that shaped not only the pace of my days, but the way I came to understand endurance. I wrote, I created, in spite of it. I’m still a little in awe of that.

The collection expands to include a selection of essays that sit alongside the poetry rather than explaining it. They hold the same tensions—power, erasure, survival, refusal—but speak in a different register. Sometimes reality needs another language to tell the same truth.

What emerges is not a single story, but a layered conversation—between forms, between past and present, between who I have been and who I am still becoming. I am less interested in resolution than in accuracy. In naming what is felt, and staying with it long enough for something honest to take shape.

This is not a book about perfection. It is a record of living—of what it has cost me, what it has asked of me, and what, despite everything, it has given back.