That boy who poisoned my tea | English Poetry by Kirti Jain


that boy who poisoned my tea asked me how am I still alive I looked at him and felt bad, real bad I so wanted to tell him
then I don’t drink tea you motherfucker I burn men in those fire
you made that tea on I burn men who raise their hands to grope women like me I don’t chop vegetables in kitchen you idiot I slit the throats of kings
who try to attack this fort I don’t bow down to anyone you fool I am the commander of my own army raised to slaughter people like you I don’t clean tables with napkins you stupid I only clean the mess that’s
created after mass murders of patriarchy by my hand I don’t drape saree you leech
I wrap the bodies of molestors in white cotton sheets and burn them alive I don’t wear heels you silly, I only carry
pointed sword to peel off the skin of men who whip women who disobey them Oh I so wanted to tell that boy
who poisoned my tea that I don’t drink tea you motherfucker I only drink the blood of men like you I only live to drink the
blood of men like you Hello my name is Kirti Jain if you like my poetry
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