Drinks by: Francisco Velazquez

Drinks: 
Francisco Velazquez 

I was an angel
before he took me
to the garden of Eden

Me and God
don’t get along

He plays dead
when I need him

He talks with Adam's apple
still lodged in his throat

I can’t hear,
how many times
he’s made melodies out of men like me

He tells me I’m pretty,
when I cry for myself

He reminds me,
how many bodies I hold in me,
that are not my own

My bible hurts,
from worshipping the devil

I tell myself,
that praying is a form of forgiveness,
and I still haven’t prayed for you

 I’ve learned to whisper beneath the alter,
no one likes a man who cries
with the last supper still on his table

I speak in syllables,
for a man that loves me in triple 6 kisses

My will is a widow still looking for love in a confessional coffin.

My body hurts from bending to bible scriptures,
you never blessed me with

I told him I wanted him,
I wanted him to touch me,
in pieces when I die

Call me anything that fits in your mouth,
Like soft ice cream,
I've been melting in your baptism
Soaking in your blood and bread

Sometimes I have to remind myself there’s a difference between God and Godly.

I get tired of being blind for an ego,
that never lived up to a man

I look at the moon,
like he never took all the stars in my throat
like he never took my galaxy for his own kingdom

I don’t want last words with something that killed me before I could.

Will you still love me,
when I shine,
6 feet under your throne.

My sun is small,
he took it before it could rise

My worth is strong,
I refuse to lose it again

I have no shame in loving myself,
I’ve learned from rejection
that I can always come back home,
to myself

My God is still walking on Earth,
his confessionals still prove
why he hasn’t resurrected