Leftovers

By Arushi (Aru Shan)

In the fridge

Been two weeks

Kept out of pity

Forgotten, the next meal

I was meant to satisfy

Where did I go wrong?

If you didn't want me, why did you make me?

I was okay not existing.

Tupperwares of other stuff

Taken out and eaten

Tiffins cleaned at dusk

Pushed further behind thrice a day.

I don't want to stay

Giving up is for the weak, you say

Rotting on the inside

Edges are fungi

I smell disgusting

Haven't seen light in so long

I want to live.

Hopes soar high

When the fridge door swings by

Staleness my despair

Crumbling like flaky water-less dough

I stick on your conscience like dry flour

And get removed with vigour

As if I'm mud not food

You don't see.

So much pretence

To have me believe in my purpose

It's all nonsense

You flinch your nose at my mention

Like a ripped off band-aid

No matter my worth, I go in there

In the polythene after your circus

In the trash from there

There isn't such a thing as "later"

For half-a-box leftovers.

By Arushi (Aru Shan)