I was used to words flowing
And me writing them out...
I was used to it
I was used to them,
speaking out loud.

I guess, I am still used to it
But, somehow
My urge to penn them
Is going without a sound
And I guess it would,
come back someday
One such day,
As it is today.
But
I don't know
If I connect
If I am loving it the same way?
If I am the same, I was?
I guess we grow up
even from things that
used to be all we were before.

© she_writes