like a well-laid platter in front of you
mesmerizes you
And you feast and feast on it
till your heart’s full..
But like the stomach once full
and you bloat and gloat
like a child whose favourite toy
is no more of any use.

for you was that meal you had to your heart’s content,
and I was the dish served.
Now, I lay stale
Flies swarming all around
to have a taste of the tattered soiled wound
festering from all the ‘Love’ you feasted upon.

inch by inch,
minute by minute,
as I was feasted upon
I thought I loved you
And now I know
All that was a sham
There is no love in being a feast
In feeding your ego
In striving to become a person you wanted me to be.
These flies have really shown me my place.

Categories: Poetry

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