you can't have my lunch money

you can't have my lunch money
i need it to eat with
for corn bread and honey

you're coming at me
like a foul hand of rummy
i'm not the bug-eyed bruise here
i'm not the twitching bunny

i used to be a painter
i used to be a gun
barrel loaded with a vapor
that would unveil drowning suns

i used to be a beggar
used to be a nun
footprint on my forehead
content with my rations

i used to be a cross
i used to be a pun
cracked the double meaning
to find out what i've won

you can pounce me from the backside
karate chop my tummy
but the challenge of this draw's
for you to drop your load
and love me