Kash Baloch — Poetry on Identity, Love, and Survival

Equality is a falsified notion—that is now more clear than ever before as race relations that were already tense have finally evolved into an all out war. Black lives matter, they claimed, until nine more lives were lost, still, we march on, as we shall overcome, regardless of the cost. Our children are daily forced to pledge allegiance to one nation, with dishonest promises of liberty and justice that only ever result in aggravation. There is no justice for people of colour, for we are denied the same privilege bestowed upon the others. There are no in or out-groups, no us versus them, in this system built on lies that needs to be condemned. The civil rights movement now seems like it was all in vain, as the blood of our brothers and sisters still stains the streets and ends up circling the drain. The emancipation proclamation may as well have remained unsigned, with every step forward, we have fallen twice as many steps behind. Today, I am filled with such voraciou...

Baby girls barely old enough to walk are now being tempted to run, before they've even turned one. Every day tells the same tired sex sells story, through magazine covers and the media's attempt to make a woman feel as if she should be sorry. Forced to apologize for her lack of feminine charms, unless she has too much and becomes a target for masculine harm. It cannot be unlearned once it's embedded in a child's tiny mind, that beauty is all that matters, so one must never fall behind. Plumpers and polishes, push-up bras and pearls are just a sample of what is needed in order to be a real girl. Despite all the advancements and steps taken in the fight for women's rights, they are told it will all have been in vain without a man at home to warm her bed at night. False standards and phony ideals result in eating disorders in the race for sex appeal. Airbrushed models that are impossibly thin, lead so many teenage girls to strive for unattainable perfectio...

More desperate than I have ever been before to be released, this never-ending love has rotted in my heart leaving me sick and covered in disease. My skin crawls as though it's infested with fleas; my hair falls out in clumps and makes me drop, distraught, to my knees. I beg to be free from the aching in my chest; the constant cravings that were never answered have only left me bereft. Lovesick now, but once I was so sick in this love, that I confused it for blessings from the Heavens above. My body feels pain that cancer could even cure; the aftermath of our war is not worth the bliss we endured. Every day arrives with new ways in which I feel sore, that I am left wondering if my desire to carry on will ever be restored. In retrospect, it's clear that we jumped the gun, your words were the bullets that I never wanted to outrun. The injustice of it all is that you have already healed, your world is once again filled with wonder whilst mine has co...