When The Forest Finds You by Lonnie Stabile


CW: sexual assault

When the Forest Finds You (2024, Variant Literature) by Lannie Stabile is a cohesive collection of poetry that reads like a horror movie, or a teenage party gone wrong. Stabile uses horror movie references and tropes to disect sexual violence, the weight of silence and the complexities of victim-abuser dynamics.

Stabile is a queer writer from Detroit with an impressive resume. Winner of OutWrite’s 2020 chapbook competition, semifinalist for the Button Poetry Chapbook Contest, and 2020 Best of the Net finalist, she has also published a full-length poetry collection and a flash fiction collection.

Stabile clearly loves a horror story, and she’s not afraid to unnerve her readers. The collection talks about sexual assault and violence, but also lingers on its aftermath – the victim’s guilt, the loneliness and fear of not being believing. Most of all, it focuses on the trauma that the survivor carries with her: years may pass, but a trigger will still send her into a panic, and it is hard to see men as anything but dangerous. The stories are sometimes a bit too familiar, and most women will most likely find they have lived through one or more of the situations described.

From the very first poem, “Victim #1, or Cold Open,” Stabile throws us into a dynamic opening scene with a girl running through the woods. We quickly find out that the monster she’s running from is a boy – and what’s more terrifying than a nightmare no one but you believes is happening? Stabile reminds us that the wounds inflicted by a boy, and by those who supported him, are never done bleeding. 

This poem also shows the self-blaming that a lot of victims of sexual violence go through.

“[…] Branches snag at what she’s wearing,

leaving gashes in her deep v-neck. Gashes

her shock dismisses for whorish behaviour.”

This is also depicted well in the final lines of “Cabin in the Woods”:

July 5th, your body reeks of stale alcohol, and you want

to tell your best friend how many times you thought,

no no no. But you don’t mention it.”

Stabile shows us that many women stay silent for fear of not being understood, of not having ‘done enough’ or not knowing how to properly explain what went on. How often do they have trouble understanding what happened themselves, or don’t think they have the right words to explain it to anybody else? This is especially so in the case of young girls, who might get pressured into doing something they don’t want to, and might just give in to a boy who keeps asking and asking because they don’t have the power to say no.

Stabile is good at getting her message across in a few words, as in “Obligatory Shower Scene,” a found poem from a piece by Laura Mulvey, where she expresses how women are seen as sexual objects instead of subjects in horror fiction.

He cannot bear the burden of sexual

objectification. Man is reluctant. Man

controls the fantasy, the power.

That man is the only one in control of the story, Stabile tells us, and will not give it up for what he only sees as a “perfect product. Fragmented by closeups.” 

One of my favourite pieces from the collection is “Gratuitous Violence.” It references the 2005 mystery-horror film House of Wax. In the poem, a girl brings the House of Wax DVD to a boy because he’s never seen it. She wants to share something with him and wants to enjoy it together. She probably thinks they’re friends. However, the boy doesn’t care what she thinks, and doesn’t care to ask.

The narration alternates between scenes from the film to what happens to the girl, in a gory parallel. The bodies being defiled in the movie feel the closest to the girl as she feels her own body being violated and, like the characters, she doesn’t have the power to stop it.

“When his hands spread to my thighs

and between them […]

I do not think about Paris Hilton

or Robert Ri’chard, who are horny and dead.

Since I am feeling only one of those things.”

In “Tension,” Stabile needed only a few lines to make me shiver as she portrays how powerless women can feel walking home at night. At the same time, she captures the scene from the outside, in all its silent tragedy.

“Knowing, if wolves attack,

the moon can do nothing

but pale in solidarity.” 

Every time a man has followed me to my front door that is exactly what it felt like – a wolf ready to attack. One might argue that it is a tired metaphor, but it’s still quite powerful. 

While I was expecting the strong horror themes, I was slightly taken aback by the recurrent horror film references, which at times made me feel like I was missing pieces of the puzzle. It didn’t lose me completely, but someone more familiar with US pop culture might appreciate it more.

Occasionally the poems felt repetitive, as if Stabile was reiterating her points to the reader. But the writing – not too flowery, visceral and sharp – usually made up for it. The collection may make a good addition to the library of fans of Taylor Byas and Alice Wickenden.

Stabile manages to get a strong message across, showing violence that at times might horrify the reader, like a slasher movie we’ve seen too many times. And yet, through her sensitivity and understanding of the hurt and the strength it takes to live through yet another day, it reminds survivors that they are not alone.


 Valentina Linardi (she/her) is a queer writer living in Japan. Her writing has been published in Square Wheel Press and in The Hearth Magazine, and her reviews have appeared in The Poetry Question and Heavy Feather Review. You can find her at valentinalinardi.com and on Instagram @valentina_.linardi.

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