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jojadhavpoetry · 3 years
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every time you look at her,
do you ever see me instead?
are her eyes just as striking,
do they inflict the same fear?
.
does the spring in her step resemble mine?
and her late-night,
dishwashing dance
to the Doors,
does it also mesmerize?
.
can she tell you stories about the stars like i do?
.
will she light up every time she talks to you?
.
we were probably made by the same hands;
we’re so similar,
it’s creepy.
.
did you really find someone better
or did you find another me?
___________________________________
// follow me @jojadhav.poetry on instagram for much more! ✨
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jojadhavpoetry · 3 years
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the worst things happen to the best of people.
.
they like to cut us up,
tear us down
pull off each limb
and break our hearts.
.
make us believe
that we’re doing hard time
for past mistakes.
though we don’t recall
doing anything wrong.
.
but we’re convinced we’re bad
that we deserve all the pain brought to us
taking it on our shoulders
as our puffy eyes bleed.
.
refusing to hold a hand
or share the load
too busy pouring from our cup
and pretending to be composed.
.
yes, we’re cruel.
we are cruel to ourselves
holding up ourselves 
pieces of broken glass
but we wouldn’t bother.
understanding that some things were meant to be broken
some people are meant to be hurt
like us;
but we are not broken.
we’ve carried our agony so far,
how could we do that
if we were
broken?
___________________________________
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jojadhavpoetry · 3 years
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somedays, i want to curl up and die.
but before i can think of that,
i really just want to curl up into your side.
let the words overflow and spill out of my mouth
while you listen.
.
play with my hair,
kiss my forehead,
lay your hand on my thigh,
as you convince me otherwise.
until dawn cracks and birds cry
to tell us that it has been too long.
.
i used to think our love was so strong
that it could beat any distance,
but look at where this false belief brings us.
nowhere.
___________________________________
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jojadhavpoetry · 3 years
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when people were looking, i’d feel insecure
so when they left, we’d want more.
.
i’d wait till my mother was asleep
so we could go to the kitchen to eat.
.
opening the refrigerator
was as daunting as heaven’s door.
.
containers of leftover vegetables, curry, and rice
i’d devour everything, everything that was in my sight.
.
use your hands, no forks, spoons or knives
i’d cover up my tracks, we’ve got to hide.
.
try a little bit of everything.
so no one will notice
that we were here, alright?
.
drink some of that sparkling soda, relieve that thirst
then i’d realize, my stomach had burst.
.
there is so much left though
a few more bites wouldn’t hurt.
.
my clothes got tight, my tummy’s swollen
stopped myself only when i felt like
 a guilty, heavy burden.
___________________________________
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jojadhavpoetry · 3 years
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dear body,
forgive me
for treating you the way i did.
.
i’m sorry that i have fed you too much
and that i’ve fed you too little.
.
i’m sorry for the terrible posture
that leaves you aching for hours.
.
i’m sorry for not letting you rest
when you want to sleep.
.
i’m sorry for cursing you
when you don’t fit in these
tight skinny jeans.
.
i’m sorry i don’t appreciate you enough
every crevice and curve
everything you do to keep me alive
even the shedding of my uterine line.
.
i’m sorry for hurting you
when i really want to hurt someone else.
.
i’m sorry for tearing you down
when just like me,
you are trying to do your best.
.
forgive me, please,
you’ve done so much,
let me return this unrequited love,
through this poem;
and one day, we shall overcome.
___________________________________
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jojadhavpoetry · 3 years
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you are a gift to this world.
.
you are so much more
than who you think you are.
.
you are so much more
than who you say you are.
.
you are so much more
than the clothes you wear.
.
you are so much more
than the house you live in.
.
you are so much more
than your toxic friends.
.
and you’re so much more
than your ignorant family.
.
you are a gift to this world;
don’t ever forget that.
.
you are not bound by who you are now,
or who you were then.
you can become anything.
___________________________________
// follow me @jojadhav.poetry on instagram for much more! ✨
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jojadhavpoetry · 3 years
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all the promises you made me,
they are dead dead dead.
all the words you speak,
they all are dead dead dead.
no emotions in them;
they are just dead.
so was everything you said before;
it’s all dead.
so was your love for me, 
it’s dead,
and so are “we”.
   i’m  dead,
      you’re dead,
         we’re dead
            dead
               dead
                  dead.
.
you told me so much
    but all you told me was dead.
_____________________________________
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jojadhavpoetry · 3 years
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when he and his friends are out,
they become the princes of Rome.
gathering on the top of their terraces
as if they were of Babylon.
drunken and dazed
like they had Dionysus’ wine.
drunken and amazed
they laugh and sing into the night.
.
when it’s morning here,
on my side of the globe;
wherever i am,
wherever i may roam,
i mope.
i’ll never be a part
of your world.
___________________________________
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jojadhavpoetry · 3 years
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mother,
don’t feel guilty or proud
when i say that all you did
is why i want different things now.
.
i have bigger dreams now
because you had none.
.
i don’t want to get married too soon
because i don’t need a man to push through.
my desire to become a mother died too
because i’m afraid i’ll turn out like you.
.
mother;
don’t feel guilty or pleased
when i say that what you did
is the reason i am who i am now.
.
i’m loud because you made no noise.
i’m bold because you’re far too coy.
i’m outspoken because you didn’t use your voice.
i choose because you didn’t have a choice.
.
don’t limit me even if it’s for my own good
i know they don’t understand but i’ll make sure i’m understood.
don’t tell me to back down, even if they’ll come for me
i am not you, you are not me.
___________________________________
// follow me @jojadhav.poetry on instagram for much more! ✨
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jojadhavpoetry · 3 years
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“skip this song.”
she told her father.
.
“why?
i thought you liked this one?”
.
she sighed
and replied
.
“it reminds me of someone
who i don’t want to think about.”
___________________________________
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jojadhavpoetry · 3 years
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everyone has a turn
to pick my appearance apart.
how slim i’ve gotten
and now i was just too skinny.
how my hair lost its life
so thin and frizzy.
now my face is sunken and sullen
and once it was full.
tell me that she made my favorite
but i don’t eat as much as i used to.
.
it seems like they forgot
how they’re all at fault.
.
they’d point out my pudgy tummy
every time i gained weight.
my mom told me to slow down
as they marveled at how i ate.
.
things like these weigh on a child’s mind.
forever a stain on my life.
.
your weekend’s spot-the-difference puzzle
is something you leave behind.
___________________________________
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jojadhavpoetry · 3 years
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as weeks turn to months
and months turn to years,
i can only remember the good parts,
the ones that rarely come.
.
instead of all that went wrong,
the standing silence,
and all you’ve never done.
.
like when you’d tell me to stay
or that we should do this again
laying your head on my little ribcage
slowly rising and falling with each breath.
.
every time i try again
i expect something different
something new.
maybe this time you’d come through!
you would change!
but some things stay the same.
.
as weeks turn to months
and months turned to years,
i thought i’d learn to let go
because i lost so much.
.
but i only hoped for more
for better
for you to be more than you’ll ever be
the unattainable.
.
as weeks turn to months
and months turned to years
i’m learning how to forget.
which should be easy,
because i don’t even see you.
out of mind; out of sight
but you’ll never be see-through.
___________________________________
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jojadhavpoetry · 3 years
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you’re my model
my master
my muse. 
everything you do;
you amuse me.
.
i could never
get tired
of being breathtaken
by you
in the mornings early.
.
i sit and observe
from the marble counter;
you’re hunched over
the kitchen stove.
.
the curve of your shoulder blade
the edge of your jaw
the way your vertebrae
poke out of your back.
.
i could never get tired of it;
to imitate, to replicate,
to paint
you.
.
i sit and inspect
from my writing desk;
You’re laid across the bed,
hair strewn like a bird’s nest.
.
you were made for this,
for a patch of the gallery.
you truly are one of a kind;
my model, my muse,
a masterpiece.
___________________________________
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jojadhavpoetry · 3 years
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i only see things
the way i want to see them.
.
i always see someone whose life is hard
instead of someone who breaks my heart.
instead of someone who isn’t good enough.
.
my friends told me i had to lose you
but i really didn’t want to
listen to them, justifying your loose ends,
convincing them that you’re a good friend,
and even better in person.
.
it’s not that you aren’t a good person.
i’ll always believe and see that.
you just weren’t good to me
and it’s not my job to disprove that.
.
so i shall let this go;
little by little,
step by step,
hand by hand.
.
only you have the chance
to bring this back.
___________________________________
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jojadhavpoetry · 3 years
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the fog
the tea
the train.
.
i can’t wait to come back
and make this my bed.
___________________________________
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jojadhavpoetry · 3 years
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the adults talked about a lot,
but today, it was about home.
.
my home.
my hometown.
they reminded me of
Swargate, Deccan, and Camp
the places only no-good college kids went to these days.
the beautiful temples they stopped going to because of the crowd and the hype.
.
and i realized there was so much of home i hadn’t seen
or had bothered to see.
i hadn’t seen it but i still call it home.
feeling homesick, but this time, it wasn’t because of the food.
.
i was already second-guessing.
i was already thinking twice about everything i wanted
and whether it was worth it.
worth chasing.
when i could have it here instead.
.
you can bring our favorite food 
we can head to the terrace
sit on the parapet.
we eat and laugh and monologue
under the pink-orange sunset;
the kind you love.
.
god, i miss you.
   i miss home.
      i miss where i was born
         and where i belong.
.
god, i love you.
   i love home.
      i love where i was born
         and where i belong.
.
when i’ll be back.
   and i’ll be back soon;
      and however long it may be,
          i’ll cherish every second of it.
.
i won’t be sad
   or self-conscious.
i’ll live like it’s my last day on earth
   because it might as well be.
just know i’ll be back soon.
   i’ll be back soon.
___________________________________
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jojadhavpoetry · 3 years
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not yet
as the sun warms my face i open my
leathercoat presuming wrongly it is
warm enough to say goodbye to what
I needed to protect myself for in wintertime;
I enter the forest where tall pinetrees
embrace the chilly air on the long shadowy
path hasting back as quickly as i can into
the sun
'not yet' i mumble to myself a bit malcontent
and surprised but honestly i want to forget
snow has just melted and the nights are
frosty so i just scored too high
there is nothing wrong with april
I know her obnoxious nature as farmers do
from now on i try to be patient
*
@sharkygiovanna 2🗿🗿2021
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