Kash Baloch — Poetry on Identity, Love, and Survival

Spontaneous combust, coughed up, in a cloud of dust, erased the air, to tread on trust, swept under rugs to stop the stuck, unwind the clock cos time is up. Reverse the curse, release the clutch, steeped in sweat, sweet innocents, disarm the dreadful dissonance. Rewind the tape, to relive the rust that ate away, and eroded us; like acid rain, corrosive cut.  I fade away, to further my fear  of failed filial obligatory fuss.  I uncross my heart, & hope to live, receive the love that I, too, give.  Put myself first to make it last— add armour to my house of glass.

Had my wings coated in soaking hot oil, pouring into the ocean of our toxic, intoxicating love.  A black widow without warning,  that left a crow like me, ripped  apart—wide open; you took your  knife and drove it deeper into  my skin. Gore like this has my soul  disturbed, your violence arrived like hair-raising notes played on untuned violins.  A massive attack that made me  wish I could turn back; a love so  unkind I sought to rewind time. Your kerosene-stained caresses  kept me careening, like a car crash waiting, because its brakes are failing.  Barbwired kisses that left my lips bleeding.  Keep your misery the next time you decide  to break a poor man just because you can.  Before you commit another carnal crime,  hold onto your lies, before you waste  another life.

When the night collects dust, before deciding to depart,  and your knees feel weak, from traveling through the  dark. Release your bated breath, and let it beautify you as you recall the reason you are blessed.  As your sight declines,  and your voice wavers on  the verge of its revenge— focus on the best moments  of your life that stand out  above the rest. 

When I was a gasoline-soaked rag, that you threatened to ignite, whenever you erupt, that was when I prayed I'd learn to fly, so I could just runaway and take off towards the skies.  Leaving you behind became a fantasy that seeped into my daydreams, before possessing all of me. The taste of freedom so sweet and thick upon my tongue, like honey, it was sugary as it was warm and golden.  Some days I could almost reach out and grab the reins, and regain control of my life, even if it were just for a day.  Picture it—my own routine, a job, and my own home, where I could be the me I was always meant to be.  Instead, I'm a shadow of the future I was supposed to know as an adult; the failing sum of all the broken parts of you and I from prior battlegrounds. I remember a time when I believed that I could be somebody too, that I could rise to the occasion, and achieve success like everyone else. But I've resigned to this war, this slithering that's seized and besieged me; oh,...

  Deliberate deeds lead to  i mpeccable speech,  where  truth liberates the good,  and loathes dishonesty. A life lived with integrity,  is Eden's indemnity,  insurance we end this life,  for blessings, eternally.

When six men can simplify six hundred tribes,  seemingly erasing their sacred spaces,  then covering their resilient red skin  with clown masks, and whitewashed faces,  it becomes quite evident that  their lives were deemed irrelevant.  This particular element of European settlement  was in fact, rather malevolent.  This bedevilment became the brick and mortar  building blocks that laid the foundation for the extermination  of indigeneous ancestral traces,  eliminating their authenticity,  and history, in order to eradicate  them from a stolen nation.  A genocide created by gunpowder treason,  an extinction over time that lacked humanity,  let alone any logic or reason.  From 18 million brave— belittled and enslaved to pave  the bloodsoaked reserves that exist today,  with less than one-third of their original clique  laughed away an⁹d left to  decay on some heroic highway.  Sta...