the writer's chapbook


My newest chapbook, /empty/, is now available as an eBook in my Etsy shop! Only $3. It is a short, eight-poem long chapbook that discusses hollowness, heartache, and the displacement of emotion; it is a ballad to those who have ever loved and lost, and are still in the in between.

This small collection took a lot of bravery for me to write, however I needed to purge these thoughts out of my system. There’s a pretty big trigger warning involved with its content, if I do say so myself. An ultimate ode to heartbreak.

You can purchase a copy of the eBook version of /empty/ here!

The Universe made me.
Does the Universe love me?
I don’t know.
It is possible that I dwell in a world completely indifferent to me,
Intelligent organism or not.
Yet, every time I step into that lovely garden in Munich,
The one with the stone fountain where swallows shower,
And nothing matters…
The Sun pops out.
Doesn’t matter whether
She was hanging with the clouds
For a tête-à-tête,  
Or was about to set.
She’ll come out and shine with me
On me,
At me.
Charge my body
Till I’d had enough and gone back to commune with the gods…
Me thinks that’s Love right there.

COMMUNION (Magic Spells from the Cosmic Dragon)  

A Preview From My Upcoming Chapbook! featuring artwork by the lovely @worriedeyesart

let’s talk / about / the light / gauging out / our eyes and / your voice / summering to a / standstill / the summit of your spine / the boneyard / in between our / failing bodies / blood in / the gaps / of our teeth / and blood / in the clouds / the rain / pounding on / our door / his fists / like thunderbolts / never / thought he’d find us / here.


Hey, guys! Check out my unreleased poetry on Etsy. Handmade chapbooks and eBooks containing poetry on varying subject matter, all under $5! And until further notice, your order will be discounted 30% when you use the code “UFN30″ at checkout! 

Thank you all for the incredible support you show me. I’m finally going to be able to get back on my feet in about a week. Please take the time to browse my shop, hopefully you’ll like what you see. ♥

I woke up this day
extremely annoyed
by sunbeams,
and moon rays,
and star bursts,
and storms.

I’ve circled the mountains
escaping this void,
this relentless smothering
of the Congoid’s humanity.

I woke up this day
extremely amazed
by systems and societies
that seek to segregate
souls from hearts,
hearts from minds,
minds from ideas,
ideas from blooming.

I’ve trekked the highways
the byways,
and no ways.

I’ve skirted the stop signs,
the go signs,
and ho signs…
Escaping these bilboes
of shock and shame.
Escaping this existence
of resentment and blame.

—  WALLS (Magic Spells from the Cosmic Dragon)

My newest chapbook, What Happens When You Leave A Writer, is available as a digital download in my Etsy shop! It contains ten full-length free verse poems over the course of fifteen pages regarding the aftermath of losing a very important lover of mine. This collection was a painful thing to create, but all the more worth it. It is priced at $1.99. 

And right now you can get it for just 50¢ when you use the code “APRILLOOT75″ at checkout to get 75% off your purchase! The sale lasts through the 8th. I only have the digital items available at the moment, and they’re all discounted so much because I’m in a rough financial situation and any income is greatly appreciated. Please check it out! 

Today is stay-in-bed-like-a-vegetable-day.
I’m going to stay in bed till I grow roots and shoots.
Shoots which snake out from my neck,
My shoulders,
My back,
My buttocks,
My legs,
My toes.
Roots which sink slimy claws into the rotting mattress, binding the springs to the cheap bed boards.
I’ll be a creepy crawly vine
With fine-tuned limbs branching out in your direction.
I’ll be a botanical mystery with a fruity head and
Seedy eyes.
I’ll taste like aubergine and my landlady will throw me out.
She’ll rent out my cupboard room to travelers with money…and
I’ll creep into the compound garden and flourish next to the ridiculous fish pond.
I will parasitize the trees.
Termites will colonize my brain. 
I’ll fraternize with the ghost of the turtle that died and 
Tadpoles will honour me with lily parties.
Today is stay-in-bed-like-a-vegetable day.
Let the laziness begin.
—  TREE ME (Magic Spells from the Cosmic Dragon)

YOU & ME. this 6-poem collection takes you through the love story of two women.

I really hope you guys like this chapbook! This is the first part of the chapbooks I said I would make on this post. The second part will be available for purchase very soon! Please like/reblog this to get the word out! Thank you so much for your support!

there is so much of everything
on the palm of my hand, and there is
too little palm of my hand for everything

these walls of your apartment
house leeches in the ceiling corners
and they try to attach themselves
to me
when i leave

i am growing tired of the bloodshed

i cannot function with the weight of
your stains surrounding

i don’t think the creatures
want me here

i don’t think
want me here

the doorway is a gaping maw
and i am ready to be swallowed

—  the maw of my god’s mouth // Haley Hendrick
My newest chapbook Halcyon is available in my Etsy shop!
By HaleyWrites

Just posted tonight! Halcyon is a chapbook of short, situational poetry aimed to aid in calming one down who’s fallen victim to anxiety’s ways. The writings put the reader in a lighthearted situation and try and force a more positive outlook on their life.

At least that’s the goal, heh.

You can buy the handmade chapbook here for $3.99 and the eBook version for $2.49.

Thank you all again for the heaps of support you show my poetry and I both. <3

Whoever said New York is the only
City that never sleeps should visit a
Steel town to witness a graveyard shift.

Convoys of men climb into old
Chevy pickup trucks with dented
Tin lunch pails at sundown.

They carry leftover home-cooked meals and
The sensation of their lover’s last kiss down
Green Street and up Valley Road.

Their headlights are brighter than the glare
On the windshield of their buddies’ hearse  
During the funeral procession last week.

The employee parking lot is
Filled with more souls than the
Church was for his service.  

The crucible doesn’t care about the
Clockwork of their hearts and what
Winds their gears for this shift.

It gapes its flaming jaws and consumes
What the foreman schedules.

Their wives sit up late with the lights on
And set their watches by the echo of the steam
Whistle that marks the moment to stir the steel.

The judgment day they dread is not signaled
By the hoof beats of the Four Horsemen,
Nor Christ with a fiery sword.

It will arrive if the sounds of their
Husband’s tires never grace the stones of
The gravel road before morning light.

There is no sleep until the men
Rise from the graveyard shift.

—  Christian Sammartino, Prayers to the Steel Mill

(Available in Keystones)