Sticks and stones

How can I create
When the truth is not woven within me
How can I innovate
When the I always set my chagrin free
The stones that enervate
Eight thousand, seven hundred & eighty five days in my living spree
And yet I still live within the gate
Every night I recall the fear
One day I might go to war
One day I might carry my heavy spear
That which I've forged over the course of many years
Sticks and stones did break my bones
But words broke me down and built me up anew
I live and die by words
They're the medium I channel my anger through
I channel my perceived wisdom here, too
I channel my belief systems and clues
I channel all that I am and once have been
I channel all that's within my skin
I'm free, but gripped by fear
Metaphorically and literally
I hug myself at night a little tighter
When I hear a noise that I think is approaching me
Fear has a grip on me metaphysically
It's clear that it exists perpetually
Within the poems that I've written, my rhymes and similes
I lost the narrative at some point, and I did so gingerly
Wrapping my head around what was once a dream
Of rapping my head off and starting a career
Yet I was gripped by that same damned fear
But the fear was wiser, and today that's clear
I write poetry not to be popular, or great
I write poetry to channel all my inner turmoil and hate
I write poetry to exude my weight
Upon mostly myself, really
My alter-egos within the pages do roam freely
My inner demons are all plastered here, I can see them clearly
There was no what ifs, no almost or nearly
I was never cut out for fame and that, I know now
But the process of writing words is how I grew out
Of a phase in which I was angry and edgy
I still am, but the calm that overtakes
Fills my soul with a much needed mercy
Mercy for me, a bubble shield
Behind which I take cover from the consequences, I'm concealed
Often I live in shadows
I rarely take the lead
When it's necessary, I get things done
Though I'm gripped by my fears
Sticks and stones did break my bones
Words were things I hoped to grow
I stood on a stage and said a single line
And then and there I owned the world
I wanted to be an actor, with the might of delivery
Use the fact that I'm an odd character to my benefit
Act my heart out on stage, channel my misery
But that was something that I really never did
I could see the cosmos beyond me
I saw infinity
But my stage fright slowed me down
The fear for my dignity stopped me, dead in my tracks
I wished I could inspire, be something more
But even then my words really failed me
I couldn't become what I chose for myself initially
So I gave up on another dream, with a smile, willfully
I had a dream to become a warrior one day
A masculine energy that I wished to channel back then
It was childish, and I gave up on it
For my eyesight will never allow me to win
I'd be a liability to my comrades on the field, you see
Without my glasses, there's very little that I can see
So sticks and stones are approaching again
Will they break my bones this time?
I know not what to expect that day
But till then I'll stick to writing my rhymes
It's the one field of life where my dreams remain true
That I can always weave words in ways that are proof
That I am capable of more than just
All that I've, till now, ever amounted to
I've set myself free upon these papers
Like I always do
The devil's in the details
I might miss a few
I believe I'll catch them all later
But I have no proof
Except my inhuman tolerance
And knowing that I've got a roof
A ceiling that I'll eventually hit, that much I know
But my ceiling today's higher than ever
Because many of my unaccomplished dreams will go on untold
But I've achieved the most important, and I feel clever
It's been a blessing, don't get me wrong
I didn't make this happen with more than just effort
Luck finds a way eventually to our homes
So when the sticks and stones come again, I'll be ready
And the words that broke me before will break me again
But it's all in the name of reaching infinity
Because the same words can build me anew, a man