I don’t know how to stop feeling like
Your go to order at a restaurant
You want me, you like me, there are times when you even need me
Nothing extraordinary about the taste but you order effortlessly
Stable, dependable, a little bit mundane
You indulge in all the new options but expect me to stay the same
Insulting, infuriating, addicted to your validation
But even my people pleasing nature can’t accept my own degradation.
I’m changing, I’m developing into a recipe that’s brand new,
There was only one thing keeping me the same, turns out it’s you.