the timid child grew

stunted at first with clipped leaves

surviving with spite

the first bloom for blood

for the ancestral curse and ache

spat out the last name

then out came new seeds

family tree meant hanging

a new start meant peace

no longer hearing

a sweet lullaby from ma

a cruel one eighty

no longer grasping

onto scarred photo albums 

or hammy down clothes

the next bloom for choice

friends who carved their initials

on my hollow trunk

lie of inclusion

you cut me down for a stool

what was i to gain

no longer fearing

lonliness became a mentor

independence rose

i carry my weight

my value not based on use

praise is not respect

the last bloom for me

dispose of self destruction

i deserve kindness

my mirror can lie

vulgar and vivid image

created by pain

my mind paints pictures

scent of gunpowder lingers

the art of my war

the fruit of labor

life i crawled through the dirt for

will refuse to rot