Hoarder of memories, feelings, secrets... poetry. Tired, yet restless. In search of a place to lay down my skeletons, my guns, my heart. These artifacts of my personal love life need a new home, and I am looking for a release. I hope that some of my work can find a home here and be appreciated, or even criticized. Don't really like being this emo and dramatic. Eventually I want to be inspired to write new poetry from a new perspective;brand new eyes.