Do What You Want

Put a wine glass in my hand to hold while I stand beside the man who told me there was no better plan than God’s plan. Show me how to bow when I don’t know how in front of a man who is so endowed by a crown that they say the Gods speak of him. Make me sit for the next food to fit in my skinny body so I can be equip to read the bit in the Holy book that says a Godly form made me. But no more, No more with you pour lime juice on my salt wounds, drink the margarita stained blood from my war room, your puppet’s strings are no longer your tool, but the dynamite fuse to your casket’s throne room I disown you.