Chapter 1 – I was

I was a writer

And so I wrote

But for myself

Until the day

I found someone who

Needed me

And so for her

I wrote

And she alike

Until the day

I found a man who

Needed no one

And so for him

I wrote.


I purged my soul

Of impure thought

I sought

To be an individual

And in this act

I found myself

Accepting nothing

But for the


And for no one

But myself

So I am left

With nothing

Save my writing

And as for being

There is nothing



Make my day