Dear fruit fly

I understand you, you freakin fly,
I can’t believe that I’m me and you’re a speck of dust in air but somehow
I’m moved by you
and when one is moved, they understand the pain that one is going through,
and it’s called love
never mind who… what you are
what matters is this process that you went through
psychosis, synaptic moves
without your will
your pain, before you went numb
and went to the same place that I’d go if I were dead;
somewhere else
just like you
so tell me dear bug
probably a love of my life
what’s the difference between you and I
as you lay there dying with spores coming out of you; a fruit fly
and I lay here in the midst of my


Published by Samasya Tapasya

Samasya? Tapasya!

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