Honeybee
Reviews
i love women
This didn't align with my taste. The poems lacked a poetic essence, resembling more social media post captions. Furthermore, many poems felt repetitive, with lines appearing to be reused across different pieces.
A questionable and yet relatable poem entries of a broken hearted woman. If you would like to read more of my review check out my blog (link in bio).
heartbreak and loss are hard and difficult and so, so sad. i love trista mateer's work.
Exactly what I needed to read right now. Impressed as always with Mateer's ability to give words such weighted feeling.
This book is what happens when the heart aches so beautifully.
I RECEIVED A GALLEY OF THIS BOOK THROUGH NETGALLEY! This book has a content warning for biphobia. I read Aphrodite Made Me Do It by this author earlier this year and absolutely loved it! So I was super exicted to discover I had another poetry collection by this author in my Netgalley collection from last year that I just didn't get around to. Sadly enough, this just wasn't my cup of tea. It wasn't bad at all but I just didn't connect to the poems as much as I would want to. There were still poems that hit too close to home for me but they were few and far inbetween. For the rest there was quite a bit of jumping inbetween being over the relationship and not. It was just a bit confusing to the narrative to me. I'm still willing to read anything this author publishes.
An amazing collection that made me fall in love with Mateer's work. She wowed me with this collection. Making me feel all my feelings of an ex are okay and normal. She speaks from personal experience which makes it so easy to fall in love and relate to her words.
This book has a few gems here and there that I really enjoyed, but overall it didn’t do much for my soul.
A phenomenal journey through the author's process of healing and learning to let go. Beautiful.
Highlights
You may have been part of the healing but you don’t get to be a part of what’s healed.
honey, we don’t exist anymore. can’t you hear the sound of silence out there somewhere?
Still writing about you feels like needless repetition. It feels like sneaking into a neighbor’s backyard just to look around. It feels like carving my own name into anything I can get my hands on.
I never tell the whole truth in my poems. I wanted them to be better than us.
I swear every poem I write for you is the last one. I swear this is the last one.
You are not defined by the people you walk away from, and you are not defined by the people who walk away from you.
Here, love gets to be hungry. Here, love never has its fill.
Love was a museum where we took down the art that was there before us and played masterpiece with all the empty space.
You call it a sin when we kiss and you only hear the word unholy in your mother’s voice. What a slow way to die, baby. Day after day after day.
You are the first thing in a long time that has made me want to write poetry again.