Born to bloom beautiful,
born to grow free.
Born with both of your undealt with shit,
suffocating the life out of me.
Before I had a chance you were both,
choking the life from the roots of my tree.
Every unique flower poisoned,
God’s garden of gifts ruined & under siege.
Born breathing in both of your threats,
from the moment I gasped and took my first breath.
Inhaling them in while you held me too close.
I ingested in every toxin, every emotional dose.
Don’t laugh too loud, or cry too much,
don’t be too happy or sing or I’ll judge.
Don’t grow your own will, you were made to serve me.
I am your pastor, master and maker, now bend your head to my knee.
You have your own nature?
your own spirit and grace?
Do not be so ridiculous,
get back in your place.
You want dreams of your own,
that threaten my insecurities?
Shut up and stay small,
I own and control all opportunities.
Every time you try and breathe on your own,
I will show you why you should never try and outgrow,
my impish rule of terror,
my reign of incestuous rule.
I filled you with my error
and I enjoy watching the wreckage with you as my beggar.
Every time you try and stretch out your wings,
I will be there waiting and watching,
ready for you to fuck up like you always do.
But, there is one thing about me that you do not know Rob,
and that cannot be undone.
Is that I am born from God.
So sit there and hear me yell with my wings outstretched:
“You don’t own me and (in Goggin’s words) you don’t know me son!!!!”
Written July 2020
