I still write poetry from time to time. Unlike you.

You used to, but you don't now.

My Coke still tastes more like *****.
My room still feels more like a fortress.
My heart is still pumping blood for no reason.

I still can't wash the dishes without getting soaking wet.

I still smoke more than I should.

You still hate all the things you used to, without reason.

You still feel as sad as you once did, but you have to mask it much better now.

I'm still that same kid.

I'm still the same faithful dreamer.

I still get scared of the dark sometimes.

I still wish I could talk to you, but now, every time I do, it isn't the same.

I still think about dying.

I still read over our conversations.

and I still hate you.