finders, keepers

who needs a chaser when acid hurts so good?

your scars carry my fingertips as they river down your spine,

knowing you'll burn me tomorrow or the next,

but I'm content to drown in your hell tonight.

I whisper "finders, keepers" in your ear like a chant,

praying to any gods who'll care to listen.

◄ Where gods go to die

crosses ►

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