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Gambling With Your Soul

God Cerberus had big fangs, and they drooled acrid acid that left pock mark holes in the sulfuric floor, brimstone not withstanding certain chemicals. I watched you in that river while you swam for your life, for your love, and you aged with each stroke, you lost your way with each butterfly breach, with every breath you reached for, your lungs constricted more. I tried to tell you that you were dealing with the maverick of manipulation, that there was no winning that hand, no card game glory, singing whiskey deep bellow songs of victory, you’d be swimming the Nile before you held eternity. Why did you play her in the game? Your queen of hearts, so wicked and so fucking stark. You had to know that he would off with her head as fast as you laid down your cards. Now we beat back the raging ring of fire and you’re the one in the race for her soul against the tide of bodies forfeit for deficit bargain balances. I’m pounding you onward, because I was calling your name the whole time, I had you as my wringer as my underdog, my contender, my all or nothing win this for me. They had their money down before my mouth opened and they don’t play with coins like living lovers, they bet with a whole different sort of sordid currency, that usually resembles blasphemers teeth. Sorry for your loss old boy, I could’ve told you they’d load the dice.

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About deadendemily

Emily lives in Austin, TX. She has a minor in chaos and a major in spray paint. She likes Vincent Price and ABBA. She enjoys being covered in fake blood and writing horror stories. Most of the time she just hopes that her cat is not plotting to murder her, her cat being a minion of Satan and all. They would never suspect the cat.

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