I Don't Talk That Much

I don't talk that much. I like to keep to myself. Not for the fear of what I say will come out wrong, but I'm scared of it coming out right. I've taught myself how to play off my stutter so I don't trip and fall, but I don't know how to stand up straight and walk in heels. Assuming something wrong will come out of my mouth leaves me staring at the ground. It's harder to slip that way. My english teacher once told me not to say everything I think. I think about you. But by the time I figure out how to say your name so it comes out the way I want it to, it'll be too late. I'm never prepared. By the year 2016 I'll be ready for the 2012 ending of the world. I don't believe in that. I don't believe in a lot of things. But I want to. I once loved a girl who had faith in everything she did. I always admired that. She would say "I'll believe in you if you believe in me" and I did. I believed so much in her that if I threw her like a penny into a wishing well I knew she would come true. So come true. Be the words that sound so right even I couldn't make them wrong. Cause I'm tired of writing you down. Don't let me down. Sometimes my words fail me but this is coming out right.