Kash Baloch — Poetry on Identity, Love, and Survival

The saddest day of my life was unexpected and blindsighted me in a single, sorrowful instant, time stood still that very day as I was forced to accept that it was not a misprint. Frozen, I stood not wanting to accept that you had been chosen, to return to God to watch over us, you were always so ambrosian. My voice failed me, as I tried to hold my head up high and stand tall and strong, not wanting to reveal that I really felt like it would get caught in my chest, like the saddest song. Now I sing the blues, for I know what real pain can do; how it can turn one's frown upside down, leaving them feeling worse than if they had been subdued. I wish I could undo the sadness, or turn back the hands of time, wish I could dismiss my ability to reminisce, and gain eternal sunshine in my spotless mind. I watched your slow decline, saw your spirit slowly begin to give up, and then to fade; instead of reverting to the lost little boy I was when first subjected with loss, I will count my ...

The lack of communication brought on the demise of our relations, like an ancient civilization, falling apart; it all resulted in the overwhelming frustration that led to the condemnation of my bruised and battered, broken heart. We were of Atlantis, as our continent slowly flooded, entering a state of total disrepair. Sumerian Gods could not have saved us, for ours had become a planet devoid of oxygen, how were we supposed to breathe with no air? Slowly but surely, our lifelines were cut, as we floated much too far out at sea, with the remaining strength within me, I prayed for salvation, for an escape, or an end to the misery of your company. I stayed because you made it so convenient, gave me stability and security at the cost of my very soul. Naive and foolish me, like a kitten, I continued to drink the poisoned milk that you would provide for me, endlessly, in the most deceiving bowls. I watched you stray, silently, refusing to accept that we had reached our untimely end. F...

Denial, like a double sided sword, cuts deeper when coupled with remorse, as reality and its harshness has started to run its course. Grief grows thicker than fog making it hard to see the tunnel, let alone the light at its dreary end, as I muster all of my knowledge in the attempt to comprehend how to create a new beginning from a story that refuses to end. Something from nothing but at what cost, how much more compromise will it take before I have mastered the art of being my own boss? Soul searching should not feel selfish, yet for some reason it always does, as the inability to accept things for what they are has started to deeply affect the beauty that once was. If I could, I would rewind time to the days when life always seemed so easy, instead my present preyed on my past, making the world that surrounded me become so sleazy. Shadowed by my doubts, my potential stagnates inside me like milk that sits on the counter waiting to turn sour, as I pace and watch life pass me by,...

Time stands still as it all still feels so surreal, refusing to speed up so my heart can heal. My mind races with questions as denial pulses through my veins, like abstract art, this life has become a mystery to my brain. Childless parents and parentless children, we can become orphans in a single, somber instant. Wartorn world that we live in is imperfect as can be, yet the selfishness that ravages my insides wishes that you were still here with me. Words turn into water in the palm of my hands, slipping away from my cognition like the finest grains of sand, yet I still cannot understand why death tears apart my Wonderland. Although I am a soldier and have survived many atrocities, I would go through it all again to have my best friend right next to me. My role model is gone, I am like a sheep without its shepherd now, as I look to the stars that light up the night sky and dare to ask my maker how. How is it that dictators, hatemongers, and ugliness remain yet beauty is taken a...

The lines between reality and unclarity are blurred, as the voices in my head that attempt to accept that you have passed prefer to remain whispered. In you, I saw the brightest light, your future seemed so promising, as the love I have for you remains, never wilting, only blossoming. You were my greatest role model, I looked up to you even when you were down. And now as the sands of time turn, I die a little inside knowing that you will be lowered into the ground. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, from the Earth you came, and in God I trust, that you will forever remain a part of me, a star in my sky that shines brighter than the rest. Like the sun that rises in the east and sets in the west, my love for you was so magnificent, I gave you nothing short of my best. My greatest role model that I would stay up late to emulate as I watched you with adoring eyes, those same eyes fill with tears now that I know that you have reached your premature demise. I found you lying face down and ...

Disillusionment deepens the depression that drearily duets with one's demise; I dance disenchanted denying the depression that dared to darken and dye your divine eyes. Misery mated with melancholia and made me mourn the melodies that you mustered that I often mistook for lullabies, as the fire inside you chose to flee instead of fight creating embers, then ashes before departing and saying its final goodbye. I am weakened by your weakness, what happened to the wonder that once won and would no longer wash your sorrows ashore? Saddened, I can only speculate now that love don't live here anymore. Everything is nothing now as impermanence asserts itself, the potency of your potential declined and started to melt like the Arctic shelf. Was it not enough that I would hang on to your every word, or was it inadequate, as it is now obvious that your restless spirit felt as caged as a captured bird. Bountiful bliss that I am now forced to accept as a blessing in your place is har...

Through all these years, and all these memories, there has been you. You pulled me through time, and now I search for you. I listen for your voice in the wind that moves my soul. I try to smell your scent, the pleasures that would make you whole. I attempt to feel the touch of your caress, when you would dry the tears that fell from my weary eyes. I dare to question why, you have ceased to exist without allowing room for me to say a proper goodbye. In smoke, I look for you, hoping that you will give me a sign that you have passed onto the other side, and gone home to a place that is free of flawed design. I cry, sob, wail, then weep as the strength comes and goes. Although, you left with grace, I know that your independent nature and spirit chose to leave this world for a better, and far more liberating place. Now that you are gone, I can still feel your energy in everything I do. From the moment I wake, to the last hours of my day, my thoughts and prayers are centred on you....

These tattoo tears that are tumultuous terrorize my eyes, never superfluous. The sadness I've seen is too much for movie screens, wildly, as it moves through the streets, my angered, agitated ambulance careens. I crossed the finish line only to discover it was lined with dirt and not gold, prayed to find someone to hold to ensure that I would survive another night, and make it through the cold. I get older, never wiser, as my torrid past catches up to me and leaves me out at sea. Drowning in my misery, choking on thoughts of suicide that refuse to let me be. The sharper the knife, the lesser the strife that will slowly cut away the pain. The repressed memories and rage can no longer set the stage for the fake smile that gets plastered on my face. Packed my bags, and relinquished the spiritual baggage that kept me grounded within this place. The friends that solely pretend to be concerned have all been abandoned now, as I count the ways in which this camel's back is broke...

I will do what ever it takes to shake you off and make my way to the top. I'll step on your fingers, stand on your back, use and abuse you until you can no longer take my massive attack. I am no longer able to be fake or phony and feign ignorance as if I do not realize that you are far below me. I will always find others that can be more loyal, you were only good for me when I needed you, the milk to my oil but you made the wrong move, and now any chances of us rekindling are spoiled. My path to success will be lined with the blood, sweat and tears of my peers who did not hesitate or think twice before acting weird and not as wise as intelligent as appeared. In arrears, I will display your fears before you, lay them out straight on your front lawn and show you that you doubted me, then kicked me when I was down. That you are troubled now, and are far more entertaining than any common circus clown. From Pierrot to Bozo, Pennywise or Krusty, your jokes are starting to fail to ...

Though my love for you remains unchanged, as we sift through the pieces of our past, now estranged. These padded walls and restraints could not even succeed at making me feel more deranged than you did whenever you would act so strange. Our puzzle remains undone, as our story unfolded to reveal that you were not the one. Not to be outdone, I toyed with your emotions, played you like Russian Roulette, and my words were the gun. I pulled the trigger every time I berated you, filled your head with bullets when I would lament that you were slowly making me lose it. My sanity somehow survived the suffering that singed me every time you would avert your eyes. Your gaze phased me more than the grays of my moods that would drown me in sorrow for several stifling days. Yet somehow I stayed amused, bound to you, allowing myself to wrap further around your fingers as if yours was the hand that fed me; but you misled me. Once I became cognizant of the evil and villainous nature it was so e...

As each second turns to minutes, and the hours start to pass me by, I see with further clarity, that I am slowly but surely becoming the reason why the sun rises each morning in my sky. I work harder to attain the things that I know that I deserve, no more straws will break this camel's back, the very thought of it is even quite absurd. I was made to move mountains, to soar throughout the skies and Heavens above, instead of being created to endlessly search for, but never find, the prospects, and not promises of unrequited love. I am a force of nature, a soothing breeze when I am calm, or a storm on my worst days, that could even intimidate atomic bombs. Slowly but surely, I am winning the race, and becoming the person that even I would want to date, as I pick up the pace and realize that expectations convolute reality, and disappoint when they are late. I grow older, wiser, and become enlightened, as I enter the promised land; I no longer see a reason to seek another man to f...

My tiny hands hold yours whenever the world makes me feel so small, as you whisper words of wisdom, and remind me to breathe to prevent myself from further falls. Inconsistency, no stranger to me, cowers in fear when you are near. You are my tower of hope, beacon of strength, and the rungs to my ladder which help me climb to higher lengths. As I break and shatter as easily as an egg, you crack the whip harder and remind me that I was born a king, and never made to beg. With your support, I am invincible, the sky even fails to be my limit; you have managed to capture my heart in the best of ways, and with it you have won all the beauty, love, and honesty that are contained within it. Friends may come, whilst others go, like roses, and graves that line life's rows, yet beauty remains in the calmness of your voice, in the ways in which you remind me that even some victims have a choice. Mansions in paradise await for you to claim your keys, as it is solely true friends like you t...

Now that you are resting, I will softly sing you lullabies, and whisper sweet nothings solely, the kind that even bitterness does not despise. I will tell you the tale of the sweet sister heroine who marched proudly along, who despite her many sadnesses still sang the sweetest songs. My guitar gently weeps as it replays your life, a masterpiece canvas that devoid of its strife, was often filled with more strength than even the sharpest of knives. As a child, I would emulate you, follow you around and mimic your every move. Now that I am older, your caustic wit, attitude, and confidence helped me get into and then remain in the groove. You are a legacy, an epic to be shared with generations to come, yet these tears fail to cease as I fail to feel numb. The weather was sweet, the sun you often referenced came out and shone bright for you, and as it grew dark, the mysterious moon made a magnificent appearance, so I could soundly say good night to you. With you serenely asleep, I wi...