Tell Me More

I am scared. Will you come?

Somewhere I think I stopped waiting.

You see my smile and you think there is so much hurt inside.

I like you think more than what I really am. Makes me feel so much deeper.

All my time is spent with you. I like it so.

I like complaining too. I hardly have time to do anything else but really, there is nothing else.

I don't tell you how lovely I think you really are. Sounds very overrated. But it really isn't. You are more.

Everything you don't tell me, scares me more than all things you have told me.

My assumptions are worse than reality.

Wonder what life I'm living.