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leaveyouapen: #52 Poetry was the castle moat for my private musings. Scraps of dismal rhymed couplets found their way from my junior high desk to disapproving glances of concern as classmates read despite my distress. Now poetry is sanctuary. I empathize with monsters under my bed, lumbering heavy-handed across printer paper stained with Biro ink and drippings from loose-leaf chai. Now I scratch behind their ears as I edit draft after draft after draft of cathartic free verse and dactylic meter I cannot seem to grasp.
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retrogasm: Twilight Zone… sort of…
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Taken with instagram
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photooverload: (via photooverload)
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limmynem: by Budi Satria Kwan
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ohsopictures:  http://weheartit.com/entry/26264385
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photooverload: (via photooverload)
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