Piling up the boiled broccoli and carrots on plates,I watched you enjoy the meat with your little lover,
Trust me,at that time,I had a fantastic idea..
One day I am going to butcher your little lover and eat his meat,cook his bones into soup and feed dogs in streets..
But then I thought,leave it,even dogs life is precious,they would die with food poisoning..
The greens on my plate looked at me mocking as mocking was the pillow,lonely sitting atop of my bed,
which you used occasionally when you had fights with your lover,
And snuck in to sleep beside me,claiming I give the warmest cuddles..
The crystal glass that is still as before,broken in the room where we had last sat,
Together with drinks of red swirling in it,as we discussed business..
And the last time we met,it still is the same..
But now,somehow I enjoy the boiled vegetables,without spices,
Somehow I hate the rotten drunk called alcohol..
And I sleep on a single bed,often not even tossing and turning..
May be I have changed some how?
Grown up?
By eating the special vegetarian diets?
