I doubt anyone wants to know much biographical information about me, so I'll be brief.

I'm female. Fourteen. Reluctant resident of Washington. (We have mosquitoes the size of vultures here.)

I speak Japanese and Latin fairly well, and Spanish well enough that I won't starve if I'm ever stranded in a Spanish-speaking country.

I don't believe in gender normatives. I also don't believe in TRUELY edible Chapstick.

My favorite genres are poetry and horror.

I love constructive criticism, and hate destructive cynicism.

Every time there is a fire drill, I maintain a little sliver of hope that the school is actually on fire.

Eveyone has their own definition of perfection. Mine is that is is unatainable.

Society's definition of beauty is not mine. Scars and imperfections give you character and show that you're more than plastic. Just be you, not a cut-out of predetermined perfection with no room for growth.

To quote 'Lies in the Mirror' by Homura Kitsune,

'Does it reflect that scar you got in eighth grade little league

when you slid as far as you could across the field just to reach the ball?

Does it reveal the blisters on your hands and feet

from climbing that sandstone until you reached the top

to smile down at your flabbergasted parents

who never thought you could do it?

Are you proud of your blemishes?

The scars and blisters and sunshine freckles

that show you

you're more than plastic.

Or do you hide them from yourself

until a mirror reminds you

of how human you are?'

Now that that's out of the way, look around, browse through my poems, and (hopefully) enjoy.