my words are not coming from my head or my mouth, my brain or my ears, they don't spawn from my wondrous imagination or from my inspiration. they do not form from beautiful imagery, nor are they created in image of any person. my poems are not forged with tender love and care that others are, they are not tended to, edited, revised.

my words are not from the heart, they are not pumped through my body to my mind, my words are not from the heart or its binds. my poems are not formed of love and emotion they are not made with the same ideas others are.

my words come from the ink that pours down my wrists and thighs that were made in mutilation. a work of "art" through self deprication. my poems come from the hurt, the pain that i so obviously crave and create. my words and poems are my blood. my bond. my ties to worldly connections.