I forget how to breathe
Like setting an alarm for a clock,
I've done with my lungs
or the inhalation stops.
I've forgotten how its supposed to feel
when the sun hits my face
and how to react to a loving embrace.
I've lost the ability to see you for who you are.
Being surrounded by false hope
tends to build up a variety of figurative walls.
I've forgotten how to smile
and how to know if my happy is true.
I've forgotten a lot of things
til the day I met you.
I've fallen into pattern,
routine of use.
Not comprehending the subject of abuse.
I've come to realize how to live,
once you came around.
But every now and then,
I still get that feeling of fear
dangling off of my chest
before it can hit the ground.