Kash Baloch — Poetry on Identity, Love, and Survival

Even in deep space, your love holds me down, Your embrace has weight, and keeps me coming, back around I was on track to be a tragedy, before we collided, like stars You give me gold, you give me gravity, and it's more than fancy cars I was a lonely planet on my own Now you are the sun to my moon I orbit you and feel at home. I was in ruins, but I'm brand new. No distance between us, could break us, or tear us apart. Not miles, or minutes, not even lightyears would be too far for my arms. You light up my galaxy, our universe exists inside my heart. Closer than the others, if I'm Earth, then you are my Mars. You keep me human, keep me golden, keep me green, and grounded. Give me freedom, give me healing, eclipse me, leave me astounded. Celestially, you are the best for me, I rest my chemistry, and let you undress me. Effortlessly, you impress me, effervescent, I'm obsessing. Astro know me, come explore me, Supernova, satisfy my celestial body, cosmo comet, asteroid showe...

You,  made me believe that maybe we could  achieve  some picture-perfect peace to relieve, release; to ease our anxieties, undeniably the parts of us that were diseased our tormented entirety, oh how it reeks, this irony that maybe we could be free too blind to see there was no vacancy no vacancy for emotions that had no agency, amazingly abrasively, we returned to being strangers in the streets like two opposing ships at sea the beasts but not the bees like ghosts who would not grieve, the gifts that we received, that day that we, conceived this wicked web we weaved. a melodramatic make-believe. how prepubescent juvenile, infantile, without blessing, the next best thing. Inexpressive, undeniable inattentive, unreliable, wreaking havoc through speaking words so viable.

  Gigantic. I'm manic, Atlantic, like the Titanic. Why panic? Not like you'll be in the attic, or in the annex, you didn't vanish, these antics are so erratic, but you love my Johnson cos you know I'm Magic. You talkin to me? Let's talk about tragic. Gremlin like Gizmo, inspector gadget. Get you lit, wanna play with matches. No press passes, just fat asses, big butts, and tiggolbooties. Take you on a date, out to the movies. Make those milks shake sip on those smoothies. Call me big poppa, I'll get it juicy. Tequila shots, let's keep it boozy. Buy you a Mickey, let's get it Goofy. I'm not Bill Cosby, won't be no roofie. Dr. Huxtable without the Rudy. Don't come for me, cos I'm Judge Judy Got some splainin to do, you can call me Ricky, & you be Lucy. You can pick your nose, but don't get choosy. All tied up, so I say this loosely, if you act like Suzy, then you're gonna lose me. Come see the wizard, we could get real woozy. He...

  Dear warrior, while you weather storms through wars waged against your worth, remember, you have purpose, and come from the deep, cool Earth. Although the sinister & sly may have tried to steal the innocence of your smile, you remain; stand your ground & stay, you are so much more than sorrow, although it seems to be a stain. And when malevolent men manipulate through tactics meant to intimidate you cannot let them conjugate you, for they could never capture the courage that has made you. For you were meant to soar, do not let the rest clip your wings to steal your flight. Fly away, or fight, dear warrior– they could never dim your light.