Welcome to Ink Blots and Teapots. I’m Echo Sylle Rue—a poet, storyteller, and storm survivor writing in the quiet between thunderclaps. This space was born from late-night journaling, whispered confessions, sacred metaphors, and the endless refilling of tea cups. It’s where I pour the ache, the longing, the beauty, and the breaking into ink and let the pages carry what my voice sometimes can’t. I write for:

• The ones who have loved hard and lost harder
• The ones who carry grief like velvet in their pockets
• The ones who have been silenced, and are learning how to speak again
• And the ones who know that fire can both destroy and keep you warm

You’ll find poetry here. You’ll find sensuality here. You’ll find ghosts, saints, motel rooms, holy wounds, feline distractions, and the occasional sacred smut dressed in metaphor and lace. This is where storms are remembered. This is where softness is a revolution. This is where thunder touches skin—and stays. Whether you came here to read, to feel, or just to remember your own voice, I’m so glad you’re here. Pull up a teacup. Stay as long as you need. — Echo