Let me preface this by saying I am so done with trash male poets who write solely to police female body politics, sexuality, and emotions under the guise of "teaching" or "empowering" them because frankly, who asked you.
I won't invalidate the apparent therapeutic qualities of the book for others, because if it's accessible and helps you through a heartbreak, fine. If it speaks to you somehow and makes you feel wanted, cherished, understood, fine. Good, even.
But my goodnessss, if this isn't the most vapid, patronizing, hypermasculine garbage. Almost every poem spews the same regurgitated theme, its prose indistinguishable from cheesy souvenir mug cliches. Sin's relationship with and view of women is pathetic and manipulative at best, straight-up misogynistic at worst. This is a man who thinks he knows what's best for women, and I don't buy it.