In which Abigail makes everything about love again, because it is.

Thanks for asking! Um, no, obviously not.

The cure for limerence is simple, not easy. Let's talk about it.

Where I largely just tell myself what I need to hear but I pretend I’m doing it for you. Someone’s gotta do it, sorry!

The title is a joke. This is how I read poetry. And I have much fun reading poetry, so maybe there’s something there. God bless & do your own thing, of course.

My final word (if such a thing exists) on a topic I'm sick of talking about. Girl, you already know!

Don't be for everyone, or about everything; unpacking what unites the poetry I love & hate; the choice to break what is known.

are just eyes. Open yours. 

No. Because poetry about death is about love, too. For those who say poetry "just isn't for me."