Welcome to
R.C. Hollows

This isn’t a portfolio.
It’s a room I stopped hiding.
Inside are poems that never asked to be good—only real.

There’s dust here. And longing.
A few busted metaphors and a made bed that took me years to lie in.

I write to survive
to remember
to make meaning out of the mess I made
and the boy I left behind.

You don’t have to like it.
You just have to let it breathe.

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You can use this box for thoughts, questions, stories, or anything you don’t want to keep yourself.

I may not always reply quickly. But I do read everything.

-R.C.