Nothing changes.

Short poems,
Long poems.
Diary notes,
Songs!
But nothing matters,
Nothing.
Because

You see
Some people
Write to heal.
And
Some write to hide.

And I am the latter.

Because I fail terribly,
At answering,
Questions like
“Why do you write poems?
Why do you push people away?
Why do you do things that you suck at?
And why don’t you care about
The people you love
Just because they’re “not sure” if they wanna stay?”

I keep forcing myself,
To make poems,
That don’t sound
You know,
Lame.
But I end up creating
The same shit,
The same.

Yet, here I am.
Still writing,
And creating
Utter crap in my brain.

Because who would really care about
This poem’s poet’s name.

And After every poem
That people who write to hide
Write,
Believe me, nothing changes.
Nothing.
Everything remains
Just the
Same.
The
Same.

---

What are your thoughts about changes?

I will be sharing a new poem soon. Stay tuned.