Inside of my throat there is this place I call church

This is how I pray

Through repetition

Of awkward self destruction

The beer in my belly

Bulging with pendulous weight

Adds momentum for fists to strike

Strike walls

Strike steering wheels

Strike faces in bouts of anger

I get lost most days

Inside of my head

And I pray

This is how I pray

On my knees

Inside of a tub

While water washes over me

The steam mixes with my sweat

And takes it away

I don’t believe in god

But I know

With all my heart

That if I did not come from something sacred

Then I could not tell you I love you

And mean it

This is how I pray

With knives in bellies

Cutting out psalms

They look like

Gnarled black tumors

Humming contently

And fade like

Lip shushed fingertips

Begging for the quiet

Listen

This is my church

And this is how I pray

You are welcome to stay

Mostly because I am not fit to judge anyone

I just want you to know

That sacred feels like skin

Draped over bone

Looking like a sad science project

And it’s the closest thing to perfect

Any of us will ever get