Ellie Hoovs

Joined December 2020

443 stories

Bio

Breathing life into the lost and broken. Writes to mend what fire couldn't destroy. Poetry stitched from ashes, longing, and stubborn hope.

My Poetry Collection DEMORTALIZING is out now!!!: https://a.co/d/5fqwmEb

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Stories (443)

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The Rearview. Runner-Up in Somewhere Between Here and There Challenge.
Halfway through the drive I wondered if the world here felt as in-between as I did, the summer breeze already flirting with autumn,
By Ellie Hoovs5 months ago in Poets
The Ripening
Her skin wears the soft suede of the soil that birthed her, brown as sun-warmed earth after a summer rain. Inside,
By Ellie Hoovs5 months ago in Poets
Lioness
I caged her among wildflowers, their petals disguising the bars, afraid to let her roam free, terrified of her power,
By Ellie Hoovs5 months ago in Poets
Grounded in Water
What is it about the water? Is it that I am Earth, and my dry, parched soul desperate for divine liquidity, so that I can take root,
By Ellie Hoovs5 months ago in Poets
Shadowclutch
I made a wish on fallen peridot, that streaked across night's Prussian blue vellum. It coalesced at your feet, shimmering,
By Ellie Hoovs5 months ago in Poets
Volcanic, Verdant, and Very You
Let’s get one thing straight: Peridot isn’t just a gemstone. It’s a whole mood. The color of envy, abundance, grass-stained knees, summer’s last laugh, and the green spark of magic that lives under your skin when no one’s looking. Which makes it a perfect prompt for August - that bittersweet threshold between peak heat and first harvest, where we start turning inward while still dripping with sweat and sunscreen.
By Ellie HoovsExclusive • 5 months ago
Between Ribbons
She lights a single ivory candle, the warm heat of the solitary light coaxes a molten puddle, in the center, releasing a fading summer scent -
By Ellie Hoovs5 months ago in Poets
Late Summer Sighs
August is the exhale of summer… the long breath after the bloom, the heat-laden hush before the turning leaves. Everything is stretched thin: the days, the patience, the cicadas. It's a month that teaches us peace doesn’t always come wrapped in perfection. Sometimes peace is sweaty. Sometimes it has grass stuck to its thighs. Sometimes it arrives late, unannounced, holding iced tea and asking you to put down the sword.
By Ellie HoovsExclusive • 5 months ago
Scarline
You see the world through gray bitter lenses always in retrograde, carrying the nine of swords, and a backpack full of condemnation.
By Ellie Hoovs5 months ago in Poets
Divine Rage, Sacred Resistance, and the Power of Summer
We’ve hit the golden hour of summer, when the heat takes no prisoners and everyone’s walking around like they just emerged victorious from a mythic campaign at Target. It’s Leo season, Mars is strutting around in celestial plate armor, and even the tomatoes are aggressively ripening. Which makes “God of Battle” a chef’s kiss of a poetry prompt.
By Ellie HoovsExclusive • 5 months ago
Untethered . Top Story - August 2025.
Barefoot Sand hot, searing white, like my skin, which had been kissed by a fierce fiery sun that mistook me for his lover.
By Ellie Hoovs5 months ago in Poets
Wild Hearts and the Hoofbeats of August
Let’s not pretend August isn’t already halfway galloping out the door with a mane full of wildfire and that school-supplies-back-to-school-deadline-dread chasing close behind. It’s the last stand of summer - the golden, dust-flecked dream, and there’s no better poetry prompt to capture that wild beauty than horses.
By Ellie HoovsExclusive • 5 months ago