I am  23 years old publishing poet risen from tragedy that is instant noodles and being half-Batman. I work on mostly poetry and books that I fear never will become reality from my frequent micro sleep mind.

I have clammy tiny raccoon hands and chronic illness that makes me useless land octopus for 90% of the time. And I wish to be writer, despite my brain being like a half eaten barbeque dip on the back of the fridge, haunting you after weeks and weeks of growing barely sentient life under the plastic wrap.
I came here to gain that grit, and experience in showing my texts to others, and to figure out is my English any good at all.

If you read what I got to offer, thank you for noticing. Any little bit helps.