|His and Mine by Benét Stoen|
That doesn't matter though, because I fell into this book like Alice into the rabbit hole, and I didn't find my way out until the end. Actually, I might not have found my way out at all yet...
It tells the story of two truly fucked up individuals, and as the story unfolds we learn what happened in their pasts to make them this way. Its beautiful, because we, for the most part, find out in their own time, experiencing it the same way they are. Neither one truly understands or has really ever felt love, and so they can't see that the chance for it is right in front of them. They are both broken by their pasts, and as each tries to help the other, they find that they are also being helped.
I don't want to give too much away because honestly every step of the story was mesmerising, and I don't want to ruin that feeling of discovery for anyone. I will warn you, I teared up several times, so if you're a cryer you might want to have your tissues ready.
This is based purely on personal taste, and I need to refine my love for poetry more to truly appreciate the book as a whole.
Stoen's writing is lyrical and draws you in, she captures what I have always thought free verse was best at: really expressing how erratic a person's internal monologue can be. Not to mention how erratic a young adult's mind can be, even at their most put together.
I read almost the entire book in one sitting because I was so captivated. And I was, honestly, surprised by that simply because of the tremulous relationship I've had with poetry over the past decade (thanks a lot, Professor Dick Face.)