A person. A summer. A song. A version of yourself you thought would last forever.

Grief Is a Distant Star is a collection about the things we carry long after they have stopped belonging to us—love that lingers like poison, memories that refuse to stay buried, music that becomes a language for survival, and the quiet violence of growing older.

Across three movements—Mouthful of Sparks, A Body Full of Ghosts, and Blue Like a Bruise—these poems move between tenderness and ruin, intimacy and distance, childhood and adulthood, the beautiful and the unbearable. They find poetry in crowded streets, empty rooms, first strawberries, late-night guitars, old photographs, unfinished goodbyes, and the knowledge that everything we love is temporary.

About discovering that sorrow can coexist with joy, that memory can wound and preserve in the same breath, and that sometimes the things we lose continue to live inside us—not as ghosts, but as anatomy.