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Adya Jha Nov 2018
Here is an alternate scenario
Since the ideal one is too clichéd
10 years later you walk into a party
With a girl who isn’t perfect but you love her for who she is
And I look and wonder why you couldn’t love my imperfections like that
Even though you told me I was beautiful at my weakest
Why couldn’t you love me for it?
I see you two dancing in the low light
And I look towards my best friend
And she says **** it man
And I say yeah man, **** it all
And I get drunk even though alcohol is overrated and pepsi is much better
I do it because the haziness makes it funny instead of heartbreaking
And I’m laughing
Dancing on my own
A complete mess
And then I start talking about how I never got guys
And then I start crying because I want to be her
Gosh, I want to be her and alcohol doesn’t help at all
And my best friend has to take me home and tug me in
I wake up the next morning
We’re back to who we were
I never say how much I love you
You never realise how much I love you
And I get back to saying
“You know, I wonder what it feels like to be in love with someone who loves you back”
Maybe you loved me back in an alternate universe
Adya Jha Nov 2018
Once there was a white boy named Austin
Who wiped his hand after I held it
This black of my skin is not dirt
*****, I have more melanin than you
So I'll bring you flowers in the hospital
When you get skin cancer
And I wouldn't
Adya Jha Oct 2018
My body is a temple
My bleeding is divine
My womanhood is spiritual
In ways that an intolerant devotee like you cannot understand
So when you barr me from entering Sabarimala
Remember that you can't stop a goddess
Saraswati is wise but her rage is wild and merciless
Lakshmi will create earthquakes that will devastate
Durga will pierce your heart with her spear
Parvathi will leave her abode and run into the streets
Kali will destroy you in unimaginable ways
They reside within us
We will cut our feet on your shattered glass
We will shout till our voices become hoarse
An army of neglected women will create a tsunami
Till you're on your back, crying
Till you give up your apparent 'religion-saving'
Helpless, wailing
And bleeding
The Supreme Court of India ruled that not allowing women in their “menstruating years” into the Sabarimala temple is against the constitution, and all women should be allowed to enter the temple. This was met with a lot of opposition from the conservatives and the entry of women into the temple was blocked by protestors.
Adya Jha Aug 2018
Your love made me believe for real that our world is not a simulation
Because how could your touch be as binary as zeros and ones
When I feel the whole number line inside of me
How could you program a machine to be as random as my heartbeat when I see you?
And what about the butterflies -
What about the ******* butterflies?
Adya Jha Jul 2018
I would rather be
A slam poet or a graffiti artist

I would rather be
A dreamer
Who loves the way the air hits their skin
Or believes that traffic signals are an intersection of stories and not vehicles

Than someone who
Dreads every moment
Anxious, doubtful, scared

I would rather be someone else
#slampoet #graffiti #artist #dreamer
Adya Jha Jul 2018
You are my pillar of strength
You are my tomb of rest
Life would not be magical if you weren't there
Hell, it would not be worth living
I miss you
We're both just one call away
But I need your presence
It's like fate tossed a coin and we both ended up together
I say I don't believe in destiny
But I know one thing
You are written in the pages of mine
Even if nothing else is
Adya Jha Jul 2018
Turn me into a metaphor
Any metaphor, I don't care which one
Either I'm the raging storm or the silhoutte against the moon
I'm the sunshine on your wet hair or the rain drowing you
I don't ask for your love
Just make me into a literary device
Pen me on paper
That is the only way I'll feel alive
When your words caress my presence even if your hands don't
When I will be immortalized in your works
I don't care if you stay with me for eternity or let me go
I want you to remember me and construct me into prose
Which maybe people will recall
And feel something, anything at all
I want you to use me to create that warmth
That sensation that the lonely strive for
So break my heart
Use my pieces to scratch out words
Use my blood to ink them into sheets
I don't care what you do to me
Just turn me into a ******* metaphor
And store me in your poetry
Inspired by Not Marble Nor the Gilded Monuments by Shakespeare
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