I’ve swapped stars for butterflies,
Erratic patterns for fairy light trails.
Can you imagine my walls no longer absorb light?
They emit it.
No longer glow but, illuminate.
As for me, I no longer write.
Instead, I let my thoughts aggregate.
Saving the punishment of a deep realisation,
For the version of me that will exist tomorrow.
Today, I stare longingly at my walls,
They’re a different shade of beige,
But stir up the same old feelings.
It feels like everything changed.
But nothing is everything,
So, has nothing changed?