It wasn’t until I met you that I knew what I was. What I’ve turned myself into.
I am a screechy, squirming, mousy, rodent-thing. It runs from any light and leaves sorry madness behind it. It’s head won’t stop ******* hurting and it stares at it’s naked heart which beats in the darkness.
Feb 24, 2025
Feb 24, 2025 at 6:09 PM UTC
It wasn’t until I met you that I knew what I was. What I’ve turned myself into.
I am a screechy, squirming, mousy, rodent-thing. It runs from any light and leaves sorry madness behind it. It’s head won’t stop ******* hurting and it stares at it’s naked heart which beats in the darkness.
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