The Errata
A sharper publication by my former self
She was the ‘fun’ one. The sharper one. The ‘oh god. what is going to come out of her mouth’ one.
She is me. In a darker color.
The dark cherry lipstick and the glitter eyeshadow always reaching for a cigarette or something stronger from a stranger at a dive bar.
Somewhere along the way, she grew up.
Older. Wiser.
Or maybe just had a few things that scared her and became more herself than someone who she thought she needed to be.
Anyways, I’m inviting you to join her publication, “The Errata”- where old poems from her bar days are scribbled on napkins and gearshifts- and maybe a few on her heart.
🖤 Elly Marlow
This isn’t a publication Marlow. It’s a grand fuck-up log.
A ledger of mistakes promises I refused to edit.
A collection of drunk testimonies, glitter-stained lies, and confessions too loud to keep quiet.
The Errata is for heretics, loudmouths, and anyone who’s ever texted “u up?” at 2 a.m. and meant it. You know you’ve done it, don’t be shy now…
What you’ll find here:
• Moments slurred beyond recognition.
• Poems that bruise and bite.
• Stories I should’ve deleted, but didn’t.
This is my confession booth, my ashtray, with a broken bottle on top.
Welcome to The Errata.
Pull up a barstool, my sweet barfly.
🔥🥃💋 - E. Cooper