BETWEEN FALLING AND FLYING

A poetry collection for people who are "fine" but not okay

There's a kind of disappearing that doesn't look like disappearing at all.

You keep the job. You keep the routine. You keep saying I'm fine until you almost believe it. And then one ordinary Tuesday, you catch your reflection and realize you haven't felt like yourself in a very long time.

Between Falling and Flying is 60+ poems written for exactly that moment — and every quiet, unglamorous moment after it. Not the dramatic collapse. The slow, invisible kind of losing yourself. And the even slower, more invisible kind of finding your way back.

This might be your book if you've ever

✓ Called it "patience" when it was actually fear of what honesty would cost you

✓Cried over something small — a dish, a song, a receipt — and known it was really about something much bigger

✓Gone an entire day performing "okay" so well that nobody thought to check on you

✓Wanted someone to just sit with you in it, instead of trying to fix you

Between Falling and Flying moves through five parts — losing yourself, learning to stay, meeting yourself again, life feeling like yours again, and finally, coming home — but it never rushes you. It sits in the mess as long as you need it to. It finds the sacred in the ordinary: a chair moved closer to a window, a sandwich eaten before doing anything else, the first honest "not very good" instead of "I'm fine."

A few lines, so you know exactly what you're buying

I became good at saying I was fine.

Not because I was.

Because explaining the truth started to feel like another thing I had to carry.

I said no.

Nothing terrible happened.

Nobody shouted. The ceiling stayed up. The earth kept turning.

I found myself in inconvenient places.

In saying no. In changing my mind. In resting. In laughing too loudly.

I thought I would find one lost version of me. Instead, I found pieces.

They were enough to begin with.