| Title | : | INHERITANCE |
|---|---|---|
| Author | : | Taylor Allyn |
| Release | : | 2025-04-22 |
| Kind | : | ebook |
| Genre | : | LGBTQIA+ Bios & Memoirs, Books, Biographies & Memoirs, Young Adult, Biographies for Young Adults, Fiction & Literature, Poetry |
| Size | : | 559284 |
| Description: Inheritance: The Audacity of Still Being Here Taylor Allyn’s Inheritance: The Audacity of Still Being Here is less a book and more a rupture—a body that has refused burial, a voice rising after years of imposed silence. It exists at the intersection of lyricism and testimony, somewhere between a confessional and a manifesto, a reclamation of self against a world that has insisted certain stories should remain untold. Across ten visceral pieces, Allyn writes with an urgency that resists containment. The text pulses with the weight of inheritance—of Blackness shaped by systemic expectation, of queerness shadowed by erasure, of a body carrying both history and stigma. But Inheritance is not a plea for understanding. It does not translate itself for palatability. Instead, it demands confrontation. It demands that the reader sit inside the discomfort of its truths, inside the spaces where history and survival collide. “You were never meant to disappear,” Allyn writes. “You have been the fire all along.” In passages both searing and elegiac, Allyn wields repetition like a blade—lines returning like echoes, like ghosts, like names whispered over and over to keep them from disappearing. This is not just a refrain; it is a resurrection. Reading Inheritance is like stepping inside the moment before impact—the inhale before the break, the held breath before the scream. It does not ask for pity, nor does it offer resolution. Instead, it asks the reader to witness—to carry this history, this survival, this undeniable presence. In a literary landscape that often seeks to dilute trauma into digestible narratives, Allyn refuses the anesthetic. This book will not comfort you. It will not make itself small enough to be held in gentle hands. Instead, it will mark you. It will carve itself into the space between your ribs, and long after you close it, you will still feel the weight of it. Because Inheritance is not just about survival. It is about the audacity of still being here. |
