Happy Tits

hookersorcake:

I’m tired of writing stories for humans. Its become too precious. From this day forward I will only write for wolves. I shall start with children’s stories for little wolf cubs.

When you are a little cub

life is tough.

Playing, sleeping, and eating

Rolling around in the sun soaked meadow

but fear not little friend…

For black teeth gleem

and darkness is your true heart

You are the devourer

You stalk your god in hunger

Death is your true mother

You suckle blood from her teat

You are alone

You are a mountain

You are the best/worst Jim Morrison poem ever

Devour your fear

and fall crazily in love

with the killer

so happily ever-after