The story
This book exists because someone who mattered is gone. Lost to meth. Lost too young. Lost in a way that leaves you wondering what you could have said, what poem you could have written, what words might have been enough.
Still Here is the answer to that wondering. Poems about the suffering that addiction carves into the people around it. Poems about clawing your way back. And poems about what it looks like to actually be happy again, on purpose, every day.