September Love
Also by Lang Leav
Fiction
Sad Girls
Poemsia
Poetry
Love & Misadventure
Lullabies
Memories
The Universe of Us
Sea of Strangers
Love Looks Pretty on You
September Love
copyright © 2020 by Lang Leav. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of reprints in the context of reviews.
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ISBN: 978-1-5248-6787-4
Library of Congress Control Number: 2020942677
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For Michael,
my September Love.
Foreword by Lili Reinhart
I believe we read poetry to connect to the world around us. I would argue that the most important and valuable aspect of life is human connection. My love of poetry blossomed when I was sixteen as I started reading poems as a form of therapy. I remember discovering Lang’s work on Tumblr, where I constantly scoured the site in search of love poems to send to my long-distance boyfriend at the time. Her delicate, soft font first caught my eye, but it was the beauty and depth that Lang created with such few words that had the greatest influence on me.
Sharing your poetry with the world is comparable to opening up your journal, full of your deepest vulnerabilities and desires, and allowing the world to read. As a writer myself, I have a deep appreciation for my fellow poets who share the words that stem from their open hearts. It is a raw and humbling experience, and Lang was kind enough to reach out to me with support and encouragement when I announced the publication of my first collection.
Lang’s words seem as if they are individually plucked with precision and purpose, thoughtfully portraying a picture that lives inside her mind. She looks back on her own emotions and experiences with such clarity, and you can see her deep appreciation for the ability to feel so profoundly. Writing poetry has a way of revealing your innermost fears and desires, and it is one of our greatest resources in learning about ourselves: “To hold tight each feeling I am blessed to have felt, I write not to be known but to know myself.”
I read Lang’s collection during a period of global unrest and uncertainty, a time when the future was unclear and “normal” didn’t exist anymore. It was also a time when I was coming out on the other side of a long, harrowing grieving process. I felt an overwhelming rush of empathy in reading her poems. It was like looking straight into her heart, and seeing my own heart silhouetted underneath. I recognized myself in her experiences. I saw my pain in her words. And that’s the whole point of poetry, isn’t it? To see yourself in someone else. To feel less alone.