an ode to my favourite poetry book: the apricot memoirs by tess guinery

cheers to life and poetry

When a poetry book has tangible memories, past versions of self, and specific moments attached to it — it becomes more than a poetry book. When you start reciting the lines like prayers, creasing pages to reread over and over again, underlining and circling and writing your conclusions in the margins; it’s no longer just a poetry book but something deeper. It becomes an aspect of you; a mirror that reflects parts of your inner world that nobody else has access to. An intimate secret that exists just between you and its pages.

It becomes a bible. A lifeline. A manifesto. A collection of words to help illustrate how you feel when you can’t articulate it yourself.

a photo of the book’s first page: I think it’s so beautiful to see the intention that Tess Guinery had with this book, and to see it come to life as I’ve loved it throughout the years—tear stains, curled pages, underlined words and all <3

I didn’t always feel this strongly about poetry. When told to examine poems in high school English, the impact and meaning of them was often lost on me. I thought we were trying too hard to give a random string of words meaning. I thought a book, song, or article could translate the meaning much better than a poem.

Looking back now, I’m realizing that the poetry I was reading just wasn’t the poetry for me. I was forcing meaning because the poems weren’t stirring up something meaningful inside of me. It wasn’t until a couple of years later, at 22, when the universe matched me with a poetry book that reflected parts of myself back to me. A poetry book that I found easy to trace meaning and impact. A poetry book that is still growing with me.

The Apricot Memoirs by

Tess Guinery

, became that poetry book for me. It became a guideline for my early twenties, a blueprint for my creative soul. A book to read with a glass of wine in the bathtub on a weekday evening or at sunset on the shores of the lake in solitude. It’s become something much more than just a random book on my shelf.

Its pages have become artwork hung on my walls, daily prayers to recite while brushing my teeth, and hugs to friends enclosed within letters sent in the mail. They’ve allowed me to give them a second life for myself and others — a ripple effect of the feelings that I felt when reading it for the first time.

I have to be honest, though — I haven’t even finished it. I first picked it up in 2022, and now in 2025 I still have 15 or so poems to read through. I’m savouring it like that last sip of wine. Soaking up the last few pages slowly as I soak hours in the bathtub, taking my sweet time. I want to spend time with the poems — to spend time with this version of myself that gets to experience them for the first time. (re: let me slow down and be with her.)

It brings me so much joy to have a collection of poems to read through that take me back to specific moments in time; to have folded over pages that reflect back the growth of my early twenties. A souvenir from a time of great messiness, confusion, adventure, chaos, and sweetness. A beautiful little gift to enjoy in my brief little lives.

And I hope the same for you.

Maybe as you read this, that poem came to mind. Maybe it’s inspired you to go find your own.

Or maybe it’s yours to create.

What’s your poetry book? Do you have one? I would love to hear — please care to share in the comments!

Thanks for being here, catch ya in the next one <3