I knew what I was in for,
you had no ******* clue.
A runner always runs,
and despite everything, that’s what it still came to.

I don’t think you should chase me,
even if secretly,
I like to look back.

You deserve weddings and soft romance,
and I’ve never been able to promise that.
I tried to picture it,
believe me, I really did.
But I always end up becoming the angry man
I feared as a kid.

Maybe you don’t understand this,
and I don’t know how to change.
It’s easier to dress my fear as anger
than to process every trauma I’ve caged.