I ran.
Sometimes too close, sometimes too far.
I hoped.
I'd find something real, something that made me feel.
I sought.
Adventures, experiences, happily ever afters.
I dreamt.
Of starry nights, steaming tea and fields grazed with laughter.
I wrote.
Letters, poetry, prose, all addressing you.
I ran.
Sometimes too close, sometimes too far.

You took away something from me,
mother I can never get it back.
All I wanted was acceptance and
all I had was lack of that.
I grew up thinking maybe it'll get better,
better with age, but you know what they say, morning shows the day.

All gates closed, all doors shut tight, while I still wait for you standing alone on a lonelier winter night.
All hearts warm and all family awake, as I stand here playing with a fallen rake.
All fires lit and all sweaters knit, the cold is getting to me, haunting me, numbing my lips.
All homes dark and all smoke waved, as I decide to go home from my fruitless wait.