About R.C. Hollows
I wasn’t born with this name—I grew into it.
Hollows is a place I return to. A space carved out over time—by memory, grief, and language.
The voice here is a mix of city and forest, smoke and ink. Some days it sounds like a whisper. Some days it won’t shut up.
I write for the ones who never quite fit the frame. For the ones who left, or were left behind.
These aren’t just poems. They’re things I never said out loud. They’re what remains.
Read them how you need to. Just don’t ask too many questions up front.
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