Publisher's Synopsis
These poems aren't good.
I didn't spend hours editing them.
I didn't think too hard about the words I was writing.
I just wanted to be honest.
To share the love in my heart a little.
Because there's so very much of it.
There's a variety of styles
Because I don't have a voice.
I've spent my life choking on my words
Trying to be heard and perpetually misunderstood
Over explaining every word, every choice
Until they don't mean anything anymore. So I regurgitate what I've heard from others.
Stealing styles. Poaching words I like.
Trying to find a way to make them fit in my mouth.
Breaking my teeth to squeeze them in. These poems aren't good.
But please read them anyway.
