A King & His Crown

By Mario Jiannino

A King & His Crown is about different aspects of inner demons and relationships with various types of people. It doesn't have a set path to reach the end, it just does. So much thought went into the layout of the book and all this poetry was written at different times of Mario's life. Some are hard me

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ivy Lit Press
• Release date: Jun 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9798986512587

Book preview

A King & His Crown

Written by

Mario Jiannino

Cover Art by Kolbe Jones

Copyright © 2022 Mario Jiannino.

Credit to Bruce Sherman for the book cover.

Credit to Teal Guadalupe and Sharon Reisinger for editing.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without a prior written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers, who may quote brief passages in a review, and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by the copyright law.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022941583

ISBN (Paperback) : 979-8-9865125-9-4

ISBN (Hardback) : 979-8-9865125-0-1

ISBN (E-Book) : 979-8-9865125-8-7

Some characters and events in this book are fictitious and products of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Book Ordering Info

Ivy Lit Press

Email: [e-mail]

Phone Number: [phone]

Website: www.ivylitpress.com

Printed in the United States of America

I don’t want to live forever

I just want to die a king

Table of Contents

Ghosts

Shower Skulls

Broken Mirrors

Pyramids

A Bad Dream

Chewed

Something to Believe

Whatever Ice is Made of

Chains

Permanence

Nerve

Lines

Flags

Addictions

Machinery

I Suffer at Night

Everything I Hear

Jump

A Crescent Meteor

Sodawater

I Don’t Feel Bullets Anymore

Glue

Treasure

Sirens

Ambivalent

Clemency

Peppermint

Bonds

Fragile

Enlightened

What the Color White Sounds Like

Tastes Like Honey

A Door I Can’t Open

Feathers

Crowns

Kingdoms

Lament of a King

Mother, the Queen

Prince’s Perspective

A King and His Crown

Castles

Space Flower

King of Medellín

Legacy

Lonely

Tourniquets

Pressure

Patterns Don’t Make Sense

Insecurities

Vibrations

Badges

Insomnia

Bricks

Cotton Candy

Politely

The Ceiling is Low

Poisoned

Dispositions

Catch Me in The Dark

The Field

Static

Our Love

A Letter to a Best Friend

At the Top

Horizon

Clocks

Sunburnt

Weather is Bi-Polar

Ghosts

Shower Skulls

The water hits my face,

Like car lights I try to chase,

While my shoes hold me in place,

As nightmares keep this space.

I spin and wash,

But my fear exists,

This soap won’t come off,

And I will never be clean,

Clean and unused,

Brittle but not broken.

I am afraid I will stay,

Dirty and unwanted,

Unwarranted and undesirable.

My head is hurting,

The water is getting cold

My skin is on hold.

Is he watching me?

I am frozen,

I can feel him watching me.

I’m closing my eyes now,

To wash my hair,

To wash my face,

To wash away

I can’t be strong

In the shower

I am most vulnerable

Right now when I can’t see

His face behind the curtain

I am in a waterfall of faces

Faces that judge

And hate me for the person

I am, my white skin changes to

The color of terrified.

Broken Mirrors

The trees; they’re mine.

My green, my vanity,

my ocean of air and wood.

I control the elements,

those are mine,

my stuff, my groundbreaking

my intellect. I don’t share.

You like to look at all my things.

My stuff, my habits, my reason

for having those things.

My reasons, those reasons I have

for never stopping at the right moment.

Don’t tell me to stop,

money is only paper, nothing more,

nothing like the love which is any color

I want no more green for us. No more

pink or blue or anything that will make you think

of something that is mine. Mine is not yours.

I am selfish. I don’t steal, I earn.

I earn what is mine, what could

be yours, ours, but no more. You

are nothing but a color I have forgotten.

We don’t stop in this city

anymore. We draw circles

separately and not around each other,

away from the word that kept us together.

My stuff, the things, those songs,

those photos, those times of running

into wind, the wind