The willow hangs,
drapes the ground,
dances to a tune
unheard in the hum
of cars and lorries,
in the commotion of
people passing in a
hurry, barely noticing
anything more than the
phones tapped with
fingers & thumbs.
But I notice,
I see it all,
the dance on display,
the symbol of sanity
I need today.

I hate you for holding me in your bed like it meant more
I hate you for thanking me for sleeping over
like I had been special
like I had done you a favor.

I hate that you made me think that waking up alone in the morning was normal.
I hate that you never really hurt me enough for me to let go.
You are teaching me to abandon things before they abandon me
my first lesson was you
and I still haven't mastered the art quite yet.

I hate that you are always there when I'm feeling desperate
I hate the way you touch my waist and drunkenly ask me to stay
and how I always do
thinking that maybe I was the reason you wore a button down shirt.

The scavenger waits
End of a life
So as to feast
On a dead child’s meat
If at all the silly bird knew
It was just a sheet of skin
Wrapped on a cage of bones
For the meat was already devoured
In his struggle to survive.
               © Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 14 Nov. 2015

Very often the lies of lust seems more authentic
Credibility of the truth of Love is at stake