About a time in the woods and the person I'd like to be

I can't be because the glory has passed.
There are dreams, but, can they satisfy?
All hope lies in little pictures.
And ideas of the things that cannot.
Of broken jeans and leaves, and bark.
Cover me with that blanket. I see.
I am not right because I cannot be.
And I was raised by something normal.
Used to comfort, fuck it.
I'd take your woods if I could.
And melt your home away.