Kash Baloch — Poetry on Identity, Love, and Survival

With my head no longer being held underwater by your ghost, I greedily fill my lungs with oxygen, now that I know what it feels like again to breathe. Held hostage for too long by love that refused to stay afloat. Shipwrecked heart of mine lay at the bottom of the sea, barely beating, broken by the change you brought about in me. Buried, like the treasure that we could’ve been, I wash my hands clean of this failed experiment. Tsunamis nor earthquakes could bring us ashore. Lost to time, forevermore. Until we resurface as a myth, for no one would believe a love like ours could exist. I woke up this morning and wrote your name in the sand. I've done that on every beach I've been on since I met you, but I'm never going to do it again. I'm ready to move on. This beach will be the last to know your name. Written carefully so each grain of sand would know our pain. My memories of you wash away with the rise and fall of the tide. As...

Each holy man there is, is convinced he's better than the next, as his right hand tightly clasps prayer beads, whilst he judges others with his left. Piety the reason that he wakes up every day, just to forget that only God can judge, even if someone is gay. Whether devoted to the gospel or in submission to the Muslim holy book, many of these zealots cannot be told apart from crooks. Their lies are so often inspired by an agenda that remains hidden amongst claims they will be forgiven for each slip, no matter how forbidden.   Living in the future, they are consumed with the afterlife, but it is so convenient to forget the rules every time they take another wife. These hypocrites misinterpret ancient words however they see fit, when the truth holds no advantage from which they could somehow profit. Wars have been fought over less than a few acres of land, both sides convinced the blood was spilled as part of their Go...

If you should ever find yourself lost in this life, and are unsure of where it was you may have strayed from your path. Retrace your steps, and catch your breath, count the many ways that you are blessed. It may not seem like you have it all figured out, but it’s a start; there is no need to feel alarmed Just like some flowers take longer to bloom, I promise one day you will also discover the beauty of you. Maybe even in the darker moments, when you feared nothing would change, perhaps in the smiling faces of your loved ones, or in the mentors that have guided you along the way.  Search through the corridors of your old stomping grounds, read through dear diaries, or learn a new skill at the library. Some may find it in churches, and others in nightclubs; there is no right place to go when you are lost, wanting to be found. Recount the lessons that you have learned, that helped shape the individu...