NOT USED TO TALKING

 

I had my world and I was used to it 

I would sit by myself imagining wonderful things.

Creating scenarios that almost would never be. 

I was used to me.

I like the idea of thinking things only me could see.

Dreaming dreams only me could be.

I enjoyed it, I was used to myself.

I got used to not talking except I was speaking to myself. 

I carried so deeply stories in my head, a part of my heart was heavy but who was I to tell?

I grew to not talking 

I settled with my self.

Then I met you, I told you stories I never tell.

Got comfortable with you, 

I loosened myself.

And I could laugh with you, 

Without fear.

Because you told me, 

I am always here.

It wasn’t just the words you said,

It was how you were there,

The part of your heart you gave.

The way you made me feel no fear.

I got used to you and I let go of myself. 

Then I woke up and you were no longer there.

Now my heart has melted and I bear no grudge against you. 

But I think it was a bit unfair the things you put me through. 

Why did you make me laugh that hard when you wouldn’t keep it going? 

How could you promise you’d always be there to listen if you had plan of exiting.

I don’t like the idea that how I have to crawl back to my shell.

Start over the circle I thought I ended.

Now I catch myself thinking of you. 

You shouldn’t have made me settled.

You shouldn’t have come

You shouldn’t have sold me stories that two were better than one.

You should have left me in my zone, doing the things I do, getting to know myself. 

Life was beautiful when I wasn’t used to talking to you.