A Poetry-Style Memoir
Broken Records
Still sing
#InProgress
ABOUT THE BOOK
Broken Records Still Sing is a poetry-style memoir that traces the raw, unsteady journey of grief and faith through poems and reflections that speak to the messy, confusing, and often brutal realities of loss.
Each poem forms part of a larger story—of love, memory, and the fragile work of moving forward while trying to accept what cannot be changed.
Spanning eleven broad themed, the collection moves fluidly in and out of life before the loss to the rupture itself, denial, despair, questioning faith, searching for meaning, and some glimpses of light.
For anyone grieving the loss of a parent, friend, dream, future that will never be, or a version of themselves, this book offers companionship and grace.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Eyinimofe came to poetry through grief — losing her mother and one of her closest friends just four months apart. What began as letters to her mother, a way to keep their relationship alive, quickly grew into a body of nearly 300 poems.
Her poetry explores loss, faith, societal expectations, and the quiet & hard questions grief unearths. She writes with such unflinching honesty, readers feel less alone.
She is currently working on her debut collection, a memoir-style gathering of poems that honours grief and the love it carries. Sign up below to be notified when it’s available.
Reviews
FEATURED POEMS
I hope you remember
the sounds that echoed
into nothingness.
The rainfalls you didn’t catch
fleeing in the opposite direction
into oblivion.
I hope you remember
the blue chair you left
vacant,
cold,
as the windstorm began leveling the house of cards.
Now your chest is tightening up
tears are welling up
and suddenly
the urge grips your thumb
scrolling through your phone to
dial me.
I hope you still remember
that the sun and the moon
revolve around your orbit.
And I,
was just a shooting star.
I hope you remember
me less.
He sets the time to dance—
beneath the laughing sun.
The time when all I’ll have
are pictures, memories
good stories of her love
a time—to grieve,
deep aching grief.
No matter how much
I love springtime
I can’t make it stay
I can’t hold tight forever
the pink flowers bloom
her smile, her warmth.
Round and round the merry goes
Mum I right turn
Round and round the merry goes
Mum I right turn
Round and round the merry goes
Round and round the merry foes
Mum left
I Right
Round and round the awry goes
Round and round the awry goes
Round and round the awry goes
I Right
I Right.