Nothing Has Changed.

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?



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