It used to be clowns,
those painted faces
and fiery hair.
Before the age of 12,
I realized I didn't want to grow up.
The rest of the kids
wanted ****
or girlfriends
and cars.
I just wanted to play.
Middle school
High school
then college.
Then tuition.
I stopped going,
I didn't care.
The norm didn't seem normal.
Why wasn't anyone happy.
Then it was food,
then politics,
conspiracy,
***,
myself,
love.
Then it was everything.
Then it was you.
Not having you.
Its always been not knowing.
Life.
Its so scary.
Is that why we drink and smoke
and inhale and inject and huff
and spray and play video games
and watch tv?
Is that why we settle?
Why we run away?
Sometimes it feels easier to run.
But then I never want to stop.
All my fears are catching up to me.
I'm so scared.
The little boy who searched for momma's hand
when the painted faces came giggling with
swirling eyes and demonic noses.
Momma come save me one more time.
Momma come save us all.
Sorry baby boy,
Momma ain't home no more.