December.
cold hands
the heater ticks
the cat sleeps
and I think.
a tree down below just a few reaches away
its lame stump a reminder of its past monstrosity
a few skinny branches sit in the corner of the yard
as if whispering,
“I am not you.”
derekisme: meatbone: blatino: via perfect.sensation
all about boyz liking boyz right now. apparently.
As if this kitty wasn’t cute enough by itself…
growwwwllll
(via elvisdepressley)
Pink is fucking hot when her mouth is closed.
For all you grammar fiends.
For realz.
