GREYVALLEY
Poetry that refuses to whisper.
About The Author
She didn't learn to write. She learned to survive. The writing came after, the way breath comes after drowning. Greyvalley is a poet who bleeds in violet, a storyteller who builds kingdoms from wreckage, and a visual artist who sees the world in colors most people don't have names for.
Born from Iberian, Japanese, and Hawaiian roots, raised in a country of typhoons and silence, she carried words inside her long before she could speak them straight. A stutter stole her voice as a child. Books gave it back. Volumes and volumes of them, floor to ceiling in a room her grandfather built with his own hands. That room became her first kingdom. Every kingdom since has been built the same way. From nothing, with bare hands, refusing to stay quiet.
She has survived things that would have ended most stories. Hers kept going. She crossed oceans with nothing, raised children in shelters, led a band of strangers with a borrowed guitar, and buried a husband twenty-eight days short of peace. She built herself back every single time. Not because she's unbreakable, but because she refuses to be the last page.
Her poetry doesn't ask permission. It arrives the way her colors do. Uninvited, synaesthetic, and impossible to ignore. She writes from the intersection of trauma and tenderness, where the ugly and the beautiful share the same breath. Two degrees from SCAD. A career in technology she built from scratch. A camera that finds the quiet moments everyone else walks past. And a restless love of travel, chasing light through European mountain passes, getting lost in cities that speak languages she's still learning, collecting the world one quiet moment at a time.
The Book of Poems
A three-part journey through trauma, love, and the relentless act of surviving both. Part I strips the wound open. Part II lets love in. Part III follows six women whose battles with abuse, loss, and identity may all belong to one. Dedicated to the five who made it worth staying.
“With you, I share this intimacy,
beyond the realm of dreams,
A love that flows between us,
like a thousand silver streams.”
“The sun rises and sets in their eyes,
The world spins in their whispers and sighs.
Willing to steal, to bow, to crawl,
In the court of love, they’d risk it all.”
Silent Screams
Silent Screams weaves a poignant tapestry of lives intertwined by fate, told through a series of evocative poems. The first collection captures a woman's harrowing battle with dementia, her fading memories juxtaposed against the unwavering love of her family. The second set shifts focus to the man behind a fateful accident, his soul burdened with guilt and yearning for redemption.
“Help me, for God’s sake!” a desperate plea,
in this maze of terror, she longs to be free.
Pure panic, unfiltered, a relentless tide,
in the depths of her being, where terror resides.”
“Her touch, a warmth amidst the chill,
A silent bond, a shared goodwill.
‘Forgiveness,’ whispered like a breeze,
‘Is yours to claim, with ease, with peace.’”
The Beauty We Create
Not a book of poems. A book of becoming. Each page pairs image with word, color with confession, beauty with the bruise it grew from. This is what happens when a woman stops surviving and starts creating. The beauty isn’t found. It’s made. By hand. From wreckage.
“With every breath, a silent song,
To you, my heart, where it belongs.
A love concealed, yet burns so bright,
In the cloak of day, in the shroud of night.”
GOAL—
“My goal is to make the ghosts
of all the women I used to be—
very proud of who I’ve become.”
HOODOO HOOD
Through My Lens
