Trigger warnings are everywhere these days, expected, almost mandatory. Frowned upon when not included. People see them as a sign of respect, a courtesy to prepare readers for heavy themes. But I made a deliberate choice not to include them in my work. Not because I don’t care about my readers, but because I care too much to water down the experience.

Pain sucks. It sticks and stays in ways we don’t always expect. Showing up in quiet moments like sledgehammer. Hidden behind the things we don’t say. And lurking in memories that hit out of nowhere, that break our hearts anew. And sometimes, there’s no getting rid of it. No easy fix, no resolution. But writing, especially poetry, gives it a place to go. At least for me.

We learned so far that branding isn’t just about looking good,it’s about making an impact and building trust with your audience. But even with the best intentions, many creative people and businesses fall into common branding traps that can weaken their brand’s presence.

Now, so far, we’ve established that branding isn’t just about visuals, it’s also about how we communicate with others.Whether that is through our website, social media, or marketing materials, our brand voice and messaging shape how the audience perceives us.

We've discussed colours in part 1, but branding is more than just colours, it's also about the design elements that make your brand instantly recognisable. A strong visual identity is made up of logos, typography, and consistent stylistic choices that showcase your brand's personality across platforms. In this second part of Branding 101 series, we'll explore how to choose and refine those elements to create a cohesive brand identity.

Branding 101. What I have learned so far.

Fragmented Echoes made me a poet, not that I wasn't writing poetry before. And not because it was the first thing I wrote, but because it was the first thing that truly asked me to be me. To commit to my voice, my truth, my way of existing in language. To let my inner echoes, my fragile parts speak and trust that they would reach the right hearts.With this collection releasing on March 30, 2025, I find myself honestly more nervous than excited. There’s a strange kind of feeling involved in letting go of something that has lived inside you for so long. Don't get me wrong, there’s also a quiet joy in knowing it will find its place in the world, in someone else’s hands, on someone else’s shelf. But it is also downright scary. "Doubts creep in, a nagging voice asking questions like "What if it isn't good enough?" or "What if people hate it? Hate me?". But here we are, pushing forward even through the doubts.In the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing more glimpses into the collection, behind-the-scenes thoughts, inspirations, and maybe even a few pieces that shaped this book. If you’ve been following this journey, thank you. For reading, for listening, for allowing these words to become something more than just the fragments of me.And as always, pre order information for Fragmented Echoes can be found at my News page. Stay tuned for updates.

Some of the poems in this collection have been with me for years. Others arrived on their own time. No, seriously, some of them took months to write, two of them even over a year, and others might have been made in days, hours, or even mere minutes. Each one of these poems carries something personal, a quiet grief, a yearning, a longing. All of them carrying the weight of moments I thought I had left behind. 

The Story of Shattered Pieces.

This isn’t a call for reassurance, just an honest moment. Creating in the dark, when the numbers don’t love you back, is hard. And I know I’m not the only one who feels it, but there aren't enough voices telling the world the darker truths of being a creator.

February moves fast, doesn’t it? One moment, the year is stretching open before us, the next we’re caught in its current. This post should have been up a little bit earlier, but sometimes, time slips through the cracks. Maybe that’s fitting, because today I want to talk about contradictions. About holding two truths in your hand and letting them breathe.