My thoughts. You're welcome. 

I know, I know, who asked? But you're in my house & I am the captain now. In a few years, when I'm annoyed at everything I wrote here, that's just my cross to bear. It's my perpetual honor to hate on the stupid shit I said back then. 

Don't be for everyone, or about everything; unpacking what unites the poetry I love & hate; the choice to break what is known.

are just eyes. Open yours. 

No. Because poetry about death is about love, too. For those who say poetry "just isn't for me."