about the poet

i am the wanderer. old soul, young body. full of words, never enough time

i write to release myself. these words are my confession of who i am. they are not to please anyone, but are here in the wide world to keep as a reminder. my poetry is not centralized or systematic, but rather chaotic with no form or method.

this is to remember myself, but also remember the world’s past as it spins and man takes it toll. i create, i write.

this is a task that i thought i could not do. i am here to prove myself wrong.