Can I come home now?

"light filtering through the leaves
your body distant, 
and I, who swore I wouldn't cry"  

I'm from nowhere. 

I have nothing. Who am I to love you when I feel like this, when I have nothing to give?

I'm upset. I have complaints. Please, listen to me.

They say I came from money—but I didn't. And I didn't even have love. And it's unfair.

I feel cold and I'm scared. Did I waste my only chance?  I'm pathetic. But so are you. Can I come home now?

I know I'm bad. But I have nowhere else to go.

Can I raise your mountains? I promise I'll keep them greener. I'll make them my daughters. Teach them about fire. Warn them about water.

I'm lonely. Can I come home now?

Who am I to need you, when I've already needed so much, asked for so much?

I'm generally quite quiet, actually. I'm a bit of a meditator. 

I promise you'll barely even notice me.

Unless you want to notice me.