You're telling me everything's changed now.
But who changed, and what even changed?
The man you loved,
the one who never respected you,
who never treated you right—
he’s changed?
The house you live in,
where you're treated like a slave—
that place, that hole, has changed?
Or is it the fact
that your man killed your child
because he wanted a boy—
did that change?
And what about the guy who waited outside
while you cried?
The one who shared your pain,
stood by you,
the one you pushed away
because he asked for your love—
has he changed?
Yet here you stand,
telling me everything’s different,
even though your eyes are still red,
and you didn’t sleep a wink last night.
Your man was drunk,
beating you,
and you remembered your child.
Nothing’s changed, my love.
You’re still the same girl who dreams,
even though they’re just dreams.
And I’m still just a guy
in love.
It's more like a story. i want to convert this into novel. i hope if i ever start, i can continue writing it and can even finish the novel so wish me luck
