I wrote these pages, line by line, With coffee, chaos, and too much time. My name? A secret-I'll keep it that way, But my stories are louder than words I won't say.

I'm single-like, impressively so,
At this point it's a skill I know.
I start things fast, don't always finish,
Except this book (surprise, I did it).

I won't pretend I've got it straight,
I'm usually early... or very late.
But somehow all these thoughts combine,
And turn into stuff like what you just read-so... yeah, that's mine.