Conqueror of Self

My mother kept it to herself, politely

One day I asked, what do you think of me?

-You keep people at an unhealthy distance- 

That for me,

was a monumental trophy

It  read 

"Conqueror of Self"

And all the waning
tortured spirits
of years past

cheered me on
as I held it to the heavens

they yearned for a control like mine

Never touched
never tainted
by the blood of pain
the ink of loss
the unrelenting scrape
of the death of dreams

This is my art
this is my claim
a life lived
feeling only
what I want to feel

living only
as I want to live

I selfish life
a happy life

solitude
blooming
in solace