And God,
please let the deer on the 
highway get some kind of heaven.
Something with tall, soft 
grass and sweet reunion.
Let the moths in porch lights
go some place with a thousand suns,
that taste like sugar and 
get swallowed whole.
May the mice in oil and glue
have forever dry, warm fur and full bellies. 
If I am killed for simply living,
let death be kinder than man.


You can call me Cookies or Sota, and I use he/him pronouns <3

If you follow me and want me to follow you back, you'll have to come talk to me/leave a comment on one of my books. I only follow back people I know are genuine followers, so you'll have to let me know if you are one♥