you walk this earth
with nothing but pain
and yet you blossom
so beautifully—
a lotus in winter,
defying all odds
and all of nature.

you are more than
who you think you are.
a king without a throne,
a lion without a pride—
you can be either
without anything else
to your name.

i am not who birthed me,
and i will not apologize
for this space i consume.

i am not their mistake
and i will not mistake
kinship for love
any longer.

i will own myself
once and for all.

There's a Poet who dreams of a Gateway to Heaven
Not some cold austere Gate bolted and closed in your face
As if to say "Clear off! You're not wanted here anymore"
But instead a lovely warm welcoming Gate  
A brightly colourful Gate with lots of bunting and ribbons on it
And a big banner over the top announcing
"Welcome Great Poet"

It'd be a bit...a bit like Noddy in Toyland
And there'd be all these pretty young girls with bowls in their hands
Spreading rose petals on the ground for me to walk upon
A beautiful path laid out before me, a carpet of sweet scenting loveliness
And there'd be other boys and girls there too strumming lutes and harps
Like beautiful critics... singing my praises
Inside the Gate it'd be like this wonderful Park
With lovely flowers and shrubs and trees
With marble fountains and statues and quiet flowing streams
With radiant kids and beautiful people and  lovely marquees like as if you were attending some wonderful party or banquet,

And then you'd hear a bustle in the hedgerow
But it's only a bunch of publishers vying with one another
Trying to get my signature on a multi million dollar contract
Suddenly ahead of me there'd be this wonderful magnificent throne
It'd be offered to me... offered to me as my true place... my true home
And then a man would come and he'd humbly bow and kneel before me
He'd be offering something to me....
Why! It's the Nobel Prize for Literature
I'd smile and say "Ah shucks guys sure I was only doin' a few rhymes... and a few stories".

I water myself daily, play my heartstrings like a ukulele
the music makes me smile, my art child
I can no longer blame me, for the times you were shady
cannot stay hostile, the negativity is vile
I move on and I move in, to my new skin
I got into my groove and I let myself in
to the world of violins that play for my smirk
I was ******, hurt, and overworked
but now as I rest in my throne of pillows
I realize true peace as I watch the wind bend the willows

Under gaia, through brimstone and fire
I climb below the rocky crops to spot my autumn perch
It glows like my desires owned up to it
This nightly throne I casually moan too
Light this cancer upon my lips
Whisper across the river styx
Best wishes to the mistress Nyx
I knock the vase containing complacent behavior lately sating saintly savior traipsing take your aimless face and waive wasted tainted flavor away from me.
I've not a taste for thee,
anymore.

you try to hurt me?
Fool.
It is impossible to break me anymore.
and if you hurt me,
every scar of mine will build my throne,
and when i rule i will hold my scepter and
c r  u  sh  
                                                                                   y o  u r
             v e  r  y
                                                   BONES.

Whirling in your charm
I crave for owning tiara
ornamented with your love.

No matter what you are ,
but a king throning on my heart.