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There are people who change you.
Almost like a surgeon
fixing what’s wrong:
Before you lay on that table
with your life in her hands,
you thought the world was like
This
and when you woke up
she had changed you.

Or maybe like a novel.
The one your mother said
you need to read.
You resisted, but
the story drew you in.
And after you finished,
maybe even long after,
the world seemed different
and it had changed.

Maybe it’s like that poem
That everyone thinks is about them,
except that you didn’t choose
the road less taken:
you followed someone
who was already on it
and by the time you noticed
where you were,
you had changed

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