Words That Fall On Deaf Ears

Dedication/Author's Note

This collection is dedicated to one of my best friends-one of few who ever understood-who proved to be an endless source of inspiration for my work. Without him, many of my pieces would not have come into existence. I could never thank him enough for that.

I do not pretend or hold any illusions that my work is transcendental, particularly original, or exceptionally well written; in fact, many of my pieces are just tired clichés or thoughts strung together with feigned coherency. My work is, however, authentic. It is simple, with little bombastic language and few pieces that contain any notable amount of symbolism. This is poetry meant for those who do not want to suffer through poetry that is much better. I won't promise great sorrow, great joy, or a great amount of anything because although I wrote in the throng of emotion, I cannot be sure as to how they will be perceived. Although I have been told there is an overarching depressing tone to my poems, I try to punctuate the depression with snippets of cheerful notes and scenes with, I am assuming, little success. This isn't poetry for those who are happy and want to revel in their felicity-this is poetry for those who want to be reassured of the normality of their heartache. I never was one for happy poetry anyway.

So, enjoy. Live in your own world through my words, or escape your world into mine. Pick your poison as it were; I try my best to offer solace in either case. You will find no judgment here: I am glad to let you live as you see fit. Although I may say this is poetry for the heartbroken, teenage girl, I like to believe there is something here for everyone-even if it's only one line. But, in the grand scheme of things, isn't that what we all amount to when all is said and done? Aren't we all just one line in the infinity behind and before us? One line in the chaos? One line in the maddening waltz of life and death? If this is my one line, I'll merrily accept-there are worse lines to be had.