ready to break your own ribs wide open
and discover the sound your soul makes when it howls?
howl & honey
welcome to the den where your art
and your animal share tongues until they drip with the ache of being audaciously feral
(and never apologize for the mess.)
you didn’t stumble here by accident.
something in you has been begging for a place where your body gets to be the poem, where your teeth and your tenderness can marry on the page, and where language gets alchemized the way our ancestors used fire:
to burn, to cleanse, to feed, to make love in the dark.
we worship the howl and the honey. the sweat and the sweetness. the rage and the reverence. the lines you write when you’re too unhinged to care if it’s beautiful… and then realize it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever bled.
what you’ll find when you crawl inside:
→ intimate q&as where you can ask me the kind of questions
you’re too scared to ask anywhere else.
→ my personal unfiltered feedback on your poems,
the kind that feels like exposure therapy for the soul
but leaves you braver on the other side.
→ somatic writing rituals that pull your syntax through your skin,
teaching your nervous system how to hold a pen.
→ erotic challenges that dare your muse to touch parts of you
you’ve been told to hide until she’s dripping ink
that stains everything sterile.
→ behind-the-howl peeks into my personal process,
the raw birth of my words before they ever hit the page.
→ ways to spill poetry where you actually live:
your bedroom, your business, your bios, your body.
​
→ month-to-month. no collars or contracts.
so you can come and go as your body needs.
cancel anytime, but don’t be surprised
if your throat doesn’t let you leave
unchanged.