She met a boy who made the sky feel closer. And then he left, without breaking anything but her. How The Ocean Learned to Burn is a novel told entirely in poems, about love that felt like home, until it starts to hurt more than it heals. It's about late-evening calls, almosts that nearly became forevers, and a girl who burned herself, hoping he'd stay for the warmth. This isn't a love story. It's the ache that lingers in its ruins. It's what's left behind after he forgets to turn back, and she learns how to lie with a smile. After the sky opens, and she's the one who disappears in the flames. Dhriti Mehan is a poet who feels everything too much and writes so you feel seen before you even know what hurts. Her notebooks are where breakdowns become verses and silence finally speaks back. They don't fix her, but they do hold every version of her that needed fixing. She believes metaphors are a valid coping mechanism and has turned emotional damage into a genre. When she's not writing, she's overthinking texts, being unnecessary philosophical, or insisting that her fridge magnet collection says something deep about her soul. She couldn't find her way out of the hurt, so she wrote you a way through yours instead.