the birth of free

the big boys
flattered me.
tortured me.
i smoked
their religion.
i became
a hooligan
with strange
hands
in my pants.
i was
the saint
that satisfied.
swallowing
their cream.
absorbing
their fingers.
my eyes
were not
afraid
of the dark.
i was
the angel
of revelations
giving testimony
that the body
is separate
from the soul.
i still drank
from the
breast
learning
the tricks
of my tongue.
the sabbath
was spent
between
their legs.
i’m lazy
on loud
music
or my
lungs empty.
and my
face
is drenched.
as a boy
or a girl,
i never
played
make believe
with my
prayers.
i ate
bread
like flesh
and spilled
virgin blood
as an innocent.
i’ve put
my hand
down the
pants
of a hooligan.
he’s trash.
he’s dirt.
he’s buddha
i beat
with a pole.
he’s the
whore
i give
my mother’s
diamonds to.
his voice gargles.
his words
leak down
his chin.
and i fell
for his
eternity.

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