pink-cheeked (day 1)

these are the things that i am not. 

     an author a writer a poet

i have no accolades nor public displays

yet i write

yet i continue to put pen to the

powers 

and

palaces 

and

lovers 

inside my head.

i have no ambition 

i have all the ambition in

  the world

i am creator 

unable to create.

and still

is the ownership of creation not what makes

an author?

though there is a 

lack

of control

to be sure

does the fact that my ideas are

mine alone

not make me an author?

and here am i

writing.

poetry, no less.

perhaps i am a poet

though the admission brings

a certain

ashamedness 

at expressing myself

for what if it is

wrong

bad

embarrassing?

what if it is embarrassing. 

well.

so 

    what.

a pink-cheeked poet i should be then.