i'm...
not a poet. really. i felt as though i know people who embody the jagged frame to draw the world with in the strokes of a pen severing with each sentence. i have felt my emotions bleed from my everything, and i am something new. nor am i the philosopher , with no room in the world, rarely will anyone spare a few moments these days for self fulfilling enlightenment. but distracted as much as i am, so i find myself wanting to write after the dryest of spells and my mistakes. i need not spin so fast that i loose you.