September 6th, 2003


past poetry

so i was talking with minkr0se about stuff tonight, and rhyming and poetry came up, and some stuff on that topic made me thing of the "who the hell are you anyways" poem i wrote at csw, and my wall of writings, and the poetry i use to write, and how much passion i use to have... and i sent her the first stanza of "who the hell are you anyways" 'cause i thought she would appreciate it. her responce "awesome"

and i realized how there are a few poems i wrote a long time ago that are very important to me, so i thought i would share. this is from a kris that most of you never met, and i hope you never see again. i had lots and lots of pain. but i think this stuff is important, and i want to share. so i'm going to. maybe i'll start writing again, i use to not suck at it. well, at writing, not at poetry. it's my belief that everyone sucks at poetry.

bellow is the first stanza to "who the hell are you anyways" the rest is behind the cut. you don’t' have to read the whole thing, it gets redundant, but the first stanza is very important to me. and for some reason it's just as important, and pertinent, if not more so, now. actually, just re-reading it again for the first time in a long time, REALLY reading it, i implore y'all to click the link, but i'm not going to be the bitch that posts all that NOT behind a cut.

Who the hell are you anyway?
Who the hell do you think I am?
I am not a slut.
I am not a whore.
I am not what you’ve heard I am.
So you must not be what I’ve heard you are.
But then how do I interact with you?
How do I even know who you are?
All I know is what I’ve heard about you.
But if what you have heard about me is false am I really sure you exist?
Maybe you are a lie.
Maybe I am a lie.
Maybe we are all one big fat lie
Maybe life is a lie.
So therefore if life is a lie us being a lie would be irrelevant... no?
So what is real?
Maybe everything that is a lie in our eyes is real and everything that is real to us is a lie.
Than I am a slut.
And than I am a whore.
And then you are what people have been saying.
And therefore I am not willing to talk to you... after all.

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