i didn’t tell you i loved you that day
the day we sat around and did nothin
the day we watched my dog and i stared at you for about an hour, in awe of your being
the day i sat and watched you become distance from me
the day i had to ask you to kiss me
the day of prom where i felt like an alien in your arms, the same day i began to realise that we would no longer be “we” for much longer
the day you broke my heart and treaded all over it
the days i sat and cried over you but still kept on talking to you like nothing was wrong and that i was totally okay with you breaking my heart, yes of course we can still be friends
the day i saw you after all this was said and done and we went out to eat for my birthday and i was still so in love with you and i think you knew it too, i didn’t hide it very well
the day after all of this had passed, months later, and i saw you and you kissed me agin and told me you missed me but to not get my hopes up about anything escalating, you’re  still not ready for a relationship
i didn’t tell you i loved you, because i knew you wouldn’t say it back
i told you i loved you, and you said you loved me too
i said you didn’t and you took that as a shot to the heart, an attack on you
you told me you loved me in a general “love”, you loved me in all aspects but also not all aspects
and then it all hit me again and i remembered why i didn’t tell you i loved you to begin with.

You would think
A fool who always lies
Would finally surmise
He is known to be unwise
In most other people’s eyes.

You would think
A snake in the grass
Would not have an ***
But it comes to pass
That some are all ***.

You would think
A pile of dog manure
Would smell himself for sure
And that would insure
To show that he's not pure.

You would think
A **** so full of hate
Would not aspire to be great
And instead would wait
Until humility reached his gate.

You would think
Being socially quite blind
No ability to be quite kind
Would someday soften the rind
Of almost any creep you’d find.

You would think
With so many tramps around
And unfunny political clowns
Someone would knock him down;
Teach him something on the ground.

You would think
Some lesson would be due
To give this reprobate a clue
And help him know what to do,
But that might never come true.

Yes, I'm a girl and I'm not trying to justify my body language nor am I positioning the rights of a feminist on the top, but
Yes, I was questioned always, even when I was right.
Subservience was legitimized as my trait ever since I felt this world.
Every time when I was buckled under by his lecherous eyes, I was asked to adjust my dupatta well.
Every action of mine substantiated the height to which I'll hold the name of my family.
I was asked to cross legs while sitting, speak amicably, yet not solitously.
Every time I'd to hide my period stain like a ****** blot.
I was asked to gallop my cramps because letting it out is a bitter sin.
Yes, I get my body scanned by their lewd gaze day in and out even when I put my baggiest of clothes on.
Yes, I'm a girl, and I have beautiful synonyms, call me maal, patola, bomb, *****, *** or a girl? May be, let yourself decide.
Yes, I'm questioned on the extension of the Roti's that I make and the smiles that I couldn't fake.
Yes, I'm a girl and I'll stand, and question your authority if it calls for, call me stubborn. Okay!
Remember, I'm a girl, and if you accuse me of being a feminist if I know, and can raise my tone up and against your authority, humanism needs to be checked then.
-APARAJITA TRIPATHI