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by Ashley Lazarz (Author)
Pressed Flowers is the debut poetry collection by Ashley Lazarz - a heartfelt, vulnerable exploration of one transformative year through love, loss, healing, and self-discovery. Told month by month, beginning in December, the book is structured like a personal journal of emotions. Each chapter captures the shifting seasons of the heart: from falling in love and dreaming boldly, to experiencing heartbreak, depression, grief, and ultimately, growth and peace.
Ashley draws from her own lived experiences, offering raw reflections on identity, self-worth, loneliness, and body image. These poems are not written to offer easy answers, but instead to hold space - space for discomfort, joy, sadness, and transformation. Through a range of poetic styles including free verse, prose poetry, and short-form pieces, Pressed Flowers invites readers to feel deeply and reconnect with parts of themselves they may have forgotten or hidden away.
This collection speaks to anyone who has ever questioned their place in the world, lost someone they loved, or felt overwhelmed by the beauty and chaos of life. It's a book about becoming - about embracing the mess, holding on to hope, and learning that even the broken parts of us are worthy of love.
Ashley's intention with this book is simple but powerful: she hopes you laugh. She hopes you cry. She hopes you allow yourself to feel every word and to sit gently with your own story. More than anything, she hopes Pressed Flowers helps you feel more seen, more vulnerable, and more fully yourself. In a world that often demands perfection and composure, this book offers softness, honesty, and a reminder that healing is not linear - it's layered, delicate, and often pressed into us like petals in a book.
Pressed Flowers is not just a poetry collection - it's a companion for anyone walking through their own seasons of change. Whether you're in the middle of letting go or just learning how to hold yourself again, these pages will remind you that you are not alone - and that growth, however slow, is always blooming.
