it’s that time of year again

i keep this fancam saved for a reason

The body is a cross.
I am the holiest of symbols, and every altar pales in comparison.
Worship me, pray at my feet, and I will pray at yours.
We would be lovers and gods, for as long as we are each other's one worshipper.

Corroded mask, the rust makes holes that you can see through.
To the soft skin underneath.
Weaknesses, every inch, tender and cancerous.
Lay a hand on me and heal me.
It wouldn't take much.
But you'd have to want to.