❛ MA’AM, ❜ NO MATTER HOW MUCH OF A MONSTER you may mold yourself in, trust my words darling, there’s still good in you. / maybe you are a graveyard of dead branches / necropolis of bones, you still hold a cathedral of petunias and lavenders. / ROTTEN YOUR BONES MAY BE, the canary that sleeps in your ribcage merely sleeps. it still lives, occasionally singing that song mama always sang when she tells you this : help people. don’t hurt them. ( you tell yourself you’ve forgotten this. you’ve abandoned this practice. but even so, my boy, you haven’t, and that you fail to see. ) ❛ IS THIS yours? you dropped it. ❜ / . * @godlymutt!!!














