Kash Baloch — Poetry on Identity, Love, and Survival

You think you're tricky but you're really not tricking anyone, foolish maybe because baby. you are still the foolish one.  Trapped in a maze that your denial weaved, wrapped in a web of lies caused by your own deceit and disease.  Sure, you can play house with any Tom, Dick, or Harry but at night when it's cold, and you feel lonely, it's just scary.  Traumatized by me?  No, accept fault for once, you were too weak to try me, which is why you've failed more than once.  A part of me, let's call it naive, believed that one day we could achieve serenity but those thoughts are now bereaved.  Your careless vehicle carried my heart as its passenger until the last day; right now, when I have released myself from your boughs, I am ready to throw down.  Temporary insanity brain of yours tried to tell me that you missed what was not just once, but twice already yours.  You have used up all your coupons now though, which explains why you're running around tow...

There is a tiny voice at the deepest darkest void that calls out for hope although it is one I often avoid.  Instead I poison myself with alcohol, intoxicating me until I am irrelevant, and oblivious yet I am not insidious.  I want to listen to the voice within that beseeches me to stop my sins but instead I have another drink, numbing the pain and silence, consistently on the brink.  On the verge of something exciting yet always a few steps back, it is almost as if I dare to react and risk undergoing my own personal massive attack.  I am unsure how to continue when I can feel my heart breaking in my chest, shattering into a million pieces; why couldn't it be as easy for me as it is for the rest?  My journey has led me to fleeting moments of hope where I could feel a new sun dawning on my day but then it has also victimized me, raped me, beaten me, and made me its prey.  I am only human, how much more am I supposed to take?  How much must I be forsaken...

I hear you in the silence that has replaced your vibrant voice, and in the emptiness that remains, it is an all-encompassing void.  Your laughter fills the rooms of the house that I live in, it has failed to stay a home, even the walls seem to be sealed with suffering.  The shadows at night conceal you, tricking my cognition into thinking that it was just a dream but then I see your picture and I am forced to accept that all that glitters is not necessarily what it may seem.  In my mind's eye, I envision you, always looking your best; decked out to the nines, you were in a class above the rest.  The loneliness is daunting as you haunt me everywhere I go, it is even more alarming when I can almost hear you singing along to songs that you loved on the radio.  The sweet scent of your fragrance lingers, stronger than ever before, it ebbs and flows and tickles my nose, confusing my conscience through its thunderous throes.  The flowers bow their heads in respect...

Satisfied in my own skin, I no longer feel the need to question whether I will encounter an end to my suffering.  Calm, collected, and cool, I refuse to continue to be everybody's fool.  There were days past where my heart's truth leaked from my sleeve until I found the strength within to finally get up and leave.  I am the beauty now although I was once the beast, as I forced myself to realize that I had simply been settling for the least.  Here I rise, growing taller than the trees, I will be sky high, you will even feel my spirit in the warm, summer breeze.  A glimpse into my eyes will take you on a carousel ride, round and round you will go until you confide that if you had even walked a mile in my shoes, you would want to run, repress, and then hide.  My transformation began with accepting my flaws, improving and maturing in the hopes of separating myself from the boy who would laugh in the face of the law.  I outlive, outplay, then outlast the wo...

The sullenly sudden separation between sword and stone were sadly signifying that we were both growing old.  The vibrancy in your eyes has started to grow dull, as your determination, and drive for life have suddenly come to a lull.  I look at you and no longer see the passion that once lived behind your eyes, no longer see the little man who had the biggest plans.  Has life been this bad to you?  To make you lose your will to excel?  Or is it that with each new day, you are miles away from what you came here for anyway and closer to your own personal Hell.  I glance in the mirror and realize that this man is me, yet instead I choose to circumflect, and pretend that he is outside of my own body.  By accepting no fault, the onus becomes anyone else's but my own, taking responsibility for my lack of self-love entails that these sins are not mine to atone.  Blood on my fingers from the crimes I commit, hoping the glove will not fit and that the jury ...

These endless tears flow from my eyes and pierce through the paper canvas of my life.  As hard as I try to paint with vibrancy and colour, the blacks and whites overpower my wishes, revealing the sadness that lies dormant, and is undercover.  Every step forward often results in several leaps back, this process repeats until I no longer have the strength to fight back.  Empty vessel heart of mine that overflows and leaves me inept, carelessly reveals the emotions that I have tried so hard to repress.  I know that I am stronger, I have taken beatings worse than this, yet despite the knowledge that I possess the power of Thor, somehow, something remains amiss and leaves me yearning for more.  It consistently pulls me into the darkest abyss, that tears up my insides, and uncovers the memories which I refuse to relive or  reminisce.  I am only human, there is only so much I can take before I am filled with thunder, and the anger within awakes.  It shak...

You infantile, prepubescent, pathetic little child, why do you play at staying calm, when it's clear to observers that your emotions are running wild?  You claim to be the most stunning, although your beauty is hardly even mild.  Give up the act and foolishness, it is starting to become quite tired.  Despised through all the land, you are most similiar to the king who has played his last hand.  Like a genie annoyed with granting wishes, your wishes are no longer my command.  I have given in to your last demands, and see that, now more than ever, you are hardly a man.  Lost little boy with your bag full of lies, open your eyes and realize that you are despised.  Your inability to accept fault is murdering your allies, as you acquired the inability to shock, your failed attempts for attention are no longer a surprise.  Once, you were a prize, now you are a curse, no longer a blessing, but quite the reverse.  Stuck on repeat, your lessons are mo...