The door mice are squeaking again, bringing the wolves back to my door; can they come to consume my heart tomorrow?
seen from United States
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seen from Japan
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seen from Russia
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seen from Malaysia
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seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from Costa Rica
seen from Malaysia
seen from Canada
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seen from Canada
seen from Germany
seen from United States
The door mice are squeaking again, bringing the wolves back to my door; can they come to consume my heart tomorrow?
Door Mice
Consumed With the thought that I could be everything They think of me. That I could be All the small things that They whisper to the door mice That haunt the base boards, Looking for scraps of Gossip to crumble between Themselves to survive Until the next scandal Crashes so uproariously through A single life to finally rest Among the dust mites as They float through the acrid air. I hear the whispers, But they come not from without, But instead plague me from The cavities inside my mind, Where I once thought Myself safe. While I project an exterior That is naught but focused on The task at hand, Inside I am in such a State of turmoil that, even To me, it is shockingly Amusing that I am still sane. Am I dark and twisted yet? No. I daren't go so far as to Proclaim that upon myself. I know the difference Between right and wrong, And yet the thoughts that Pass in shadows through My head sometimes Declare otherwise. Tell the door mice to stop squeaking, And the wolves to wait their turn. I am not finished with myself yet.
Little bit old/out dated but parts are still kinda current should go fix stuff
but anyway have some door mice
door mouse being all assassiny and stuff
Baby Dormice - Imgur