so a long time later you
return to writing
because everything new is old
and maybe you were never a
different person and
it was all just
one big illusion
they told you to write because
“how could you live without food”
what crazy lives they lived
i don’t know
who do you want to be?
because today people
loved you
and everything is so
normal again
that you are forced to reckon
with your dreams
the day
for them is
today
what the fuck?
and you realize maybe you’ve
changed
after all