ᅠ ᅠ ᅠ ᅠ 𝐨𝐡, 𝐌͟𝐈͟𝐒͟𝐂͟𝐇͟𝐈͟𝐄͟𝐕͟𝐎͟𝐔͟𝐒͟

will you call me a monster， a madman? or will you treat me as my hometown did， and chase me away with pitchforks and clubs?

out of the ash, i rise with my raven—hair, and i eat men like i breathe air.

will you call me a monster， a madman? or will you treat me as my hometown did， and chase me away with pitchforks and clubs?

wolves and girls. both have sharp teeth.

it’s a fitting punishment for a monster. to want something so much—to hold it in your arms—and know beyond a doubt you will never deserve it.

I am clawing at the script, teeth bared, demanding the story be changed.

you’d rather something toxic, so i poison myself again, again, til i feel nothing in my soul.