Are my days worth more than a sum of time
Am I more than my parts
Is my body worth more than it can climb
Or is myself just a heart?

If my dress made of cotton
And the grass is made of green
Then why is it so shocking
That I am only me?

That in my pocket just a poem
And in my eyes a song
That there is soul beyond the flesh and bone
That two rights can’t add up to a wrong

Why is my radiance so blinding
My peace within a bore
Why choose to love my binding
If the stories never lure?

Why catch my tears if you are weak
Why give what you don’t have
Why search for me when you can seek
For one to give you what I lack

Tell me you can love the way
I pick at wounds that heal
That you adore the lonely stray
The world tries to conceal

So I tell you now, you may go
You may flee from my embrace
You may cut this tattered rope
For flowers cannot grow in haste