All of My Every Things

By L. Bachman

This is not a normal poetry book. It is an exorcism of the soul. A poet will write about the highs and lows of their life in excruciating beautiful ways. Wrapping their pain with a ribbon to either be kept as a secret or presented. L. Bachman has gathered some of her most emotionally raw verses selected from a nineteen-year period of her life and is the first volume of complete non-fiction to date.

With bruised white knuckles, created by a humbled self-diagnosed battered and broken being on the road to healing and coping from a painful childhood. This is a display of work created to express personal struggles and surviving through periods of insomnia, moments of love, depression, anxiety, and healing. 

Cover to cover you will read the inner workings of a reclusive introvert that has spent her lifetime trying to answer her own questions about who she is, what part she plays in life, and trying to heal from things she couldn't. You will see into the mind of the woman known as L. Bachman through over thirty poems left up to the reader to interpret with an introduction by author KJ. Taylor.

• Language: English
• Publisher: L. Bachman
• Release date: Aug 20, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393834793

L. Bachman

L. Bachman is a Texas native, currently living in North Alabama with her family. Writing since she was young, L. Bachman has not only written stories, but created digital art blends. Her love of creating has led to working with some of the best writers in the independent and self-publishing world. She’s served as mentor for the young and old in the writing field, helping others hone their craft and make it through writer’s block, but is ever the student herself. Bachman enjoys researching and furthering her own knowledge and book collection. Whether it’s a topic in religion or the paranormal, her knowledge is easily noticed in her tales and in information to others interested in learning.

Book preview

All

Of my

Every

Things

Introduction

by KJ Taylor

Of all the creative fields, poetry, like an abstract painting, is easy to dismiss and easier to misjudge. For some, poetry is the realm of pretentious wankers and dubious talents bent on appearing deep when in reality they have nothing of substance to say for themselves.  I know because this is a view I held myself once upon a time. Poetry, I insisted loudly (I seem incapable of expressing my opinions in any way other than loudly), was a load of self-indulgent twaddle not worth anybody’s time. 

The truth? Like most young emerging authors, I’d written poetry myself. And I did it for a very specific reason: to express emotions I couldn’t get across in prose. I was young and angst-ridden, and a lot of those emotions were painfully raw. I ended up swearing off poetry and pretending I was above it all not