i refuse to call this poetry. it's not poetry. it's just what i write. the first 9 pages of this was all written a very long time ago. mostly when i first started writing. it's trite and self absorbed, but what else could it be? i was 17. i have never claimed to be a good writer. but i am a writer. i need to do this in order to survive. so read on if you wish, but don't expect anything magnificent. it's just the ramblings of a heart-broken 17 year old. nothing exciting. my livejournal is current, i write in it almost everyday. my zines are also fairly current. last issues was finished in march. you can buy a copy at perpetual motion records.
more current stuff will be coming soon.