I wanted to run to you
To prove that I was
A child of love
Rose man
Flower king
Hearty hippie hipster
But this is not the nature
Of my dreams
My life spews nightmares
Deep dark wells
Of despair
Despising the rising
Of my truest inner self

I wanted to run
With scissors
That cut through
The *******
Not knives to cut you
But blades that snip in two
The glue
The binds us to the past
To rip the elastic bands
That always snap back
To those fake static facts
Of the so called moral past

I wanted to run
But instead I stumbled
Bumbling buffoon
Cut myself instead of
Saving you

Now I don't run at all
I walk a little
But mostly I crawl
I don't call anyone
I’m in self-imposed exile
But I still believe
I can be a child of love