the fruit flies | Meena Puram (11)

what a privilege to feel guilty. 

to walk down a suburban sidewalk while crying about 

all the ways you failed to love me 

& everything i still don’t understand. 

to sit in a room 

surrounded by things that are supposedly mine. 

the illusion that i ever owned anything stings 

like the naive belief that you ever belonged to me. 

in this place that i’ve imagined to be my home, 

i found your soul replaced by the fruit flies. 

of course, they too went hungry and found another place to stay, wherever that may be.