Victim of Infidelity
written by: Isha Kansal
You took the blanket out and sniffed it like a mad dog.
Hungry, desperate, and crazy
for an essence, for a taste, for a body
Death betrayed you.
You were standing right at the door waiting for it
with open arms, but it chose to practice infidelity.
It chose someone else over you,
Disappointed
Dissatisfied
Despaired
There lies a spare spoon in your bowl of broth.
You are accustomed to sharing.
Sharing the broth
Sharing the blanket
For whose sake you are not poisoning the broth?
Oh yes! There is a spare spoon
What madness is it to force words out of the mute?
You have ceaselessly believed in reading the eyes.
There are no eyes except for those in the mirror.
What do they tell you?
Go have the soup.
Devour it before it gets cold.
Use your spoon.
Use the spare one, too.
Sleep in the blanket.
Wet it with your tears.
Stand at the door and wait for none.
Death chose whom it wanted to.
Yes, you, the “victim of infidelity”
Perhaps, try loving life for once.
- Victim of Infidelity - July 3, 2026
