*Rizz Face* Damn Girl, Are You A PH Of 12?

The Way I'm Sure Mice Are Meant To Die

I'm not always sure what God's I worship

I'm not always sure of my own morals

I'm not always sure of my theories of the afterlife

But something I am sure of and always have been is my belief in mother earth

And my hatred of cruel glue traps

I know the mice are not meant to be here

If I were fast enough to catch them to release I would

But I know I am not

So if it must come to a trap I will use something that is fast

Because between a quick bullet to the brain execution or a long tortureous death of struggle and starvation

I think all of us would choose the first choice

Mind you this creature is dying for such a petty crime

Just trying to survive somewhere they don't even know they shouldn't be

When it's over I'll bury him

The mouse in my room that will soon be in a trap that I've set

And I'll feel bad for murdering something more innocent than my own kind

But I will feel better knowing he did not suffer

And that I return him to the earth from which he came

Become throwing a creature of earth

of flesh and bone once granted life

Into layers of plastic with the pollution bound for a graveyard of garbage

It feels so wrong

Even as a child I knew that

It goes against all nature and worse starves earth of her meal

It's take with no true give

I'll likely repeat this to deaf ears of family

When they find me digging a hole for a pest

If I had a choice I'd be buried with no coffin

But I know I don't

So all I can do is hope for the cheapest one

Made of the softest wood

Something easy to rot

I'd rather not keep mother earth waiting long for her meal

For now I'll give her back the small mouse that wandered away from her to my own den

And hope she sees his death not as unatural cruelty but as predator sharing prey

The way I'm sure mice are meant to die

My curs ed art

God, shit, sorry I forgot who you were for a minute, everyone's wearing glasses, are you glasses boy 53 or 47?

I'm on a pipeline hyper fixation and I don't know how to feel about it.

It leads me many a place yet I try helplessly to swim against the current.

Have some arm art cause I was bored in school

Being "Jr." or "the Second" is the real life equivalent of having to put numbers after a username.

“I’m John Smith, and this is my son, John Smith Underscore Sixty-Nine.”

I'm so gay.

I wish I could use a back scratcher on the inside of my lungs, I think that would would feel great and oh so satisfying

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

I will eat you whole.

You know I've been hyperfixating on something too long when I start classpecting all the characters