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I used to hate you,
I don't anymore most of the time I wish I did,
You were the kind of person I would expect to be there for me,
Expectations and reality differ greatly.
Early realisation, if I do say so myself.
I was like that globe on your shelf,
I often inquired about it on our calls,
You said it does not matter, it never mattered to you.
You took it out when you needed to,
It never argued it never cried.
Remember our conversations about pomegranates,
I told you I love them, I love the sweet juice though I love the cut of the tang.
You said you've never had one before,
It was too much hard work for an easily substituted fruit.
I made you try it one day and taught you how to cut it and you did.
You said it was delicious, as the red juice poured down your palm.
I told you, I said, though you said you'll never have it again it was sweet but why have something which requires so much effort and gentleness?
I think you thought of me as a pomegranate,
The only difference between one and I, is that I can decide if I want the cut of the tang.
You were my best friend,
I was not yours,
I loved you greatly,
You didn't.
Copyright ©
devita bhatia
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