Kash Baloch — Poetry, Prose & Survival

Fluidity, that laps away at
favourite finds; a predatory,
poisoned ivy vine, that spreads
like somber hues, and sorry news,
a secret song of sadness,
that snags on softer fabric,
catching it inside its icy-grip,
that tears and rips, like turpentine.

Anger like this, is guillotine,
that races wildly to cause a scene,
enraged by novelty, an offence
much worse than commodity.
And as it melts, to ooze out
from the room, just to retreat.
It swallows the signs, and
all the lights that line the city
streets.

I swear it gets so vibrant bright
and blinding white that you
would think the world had
self-combusted, caught on fire,
taken up pyromania-inspired
admiration.

Scarlet reds then black again,
orange-dead, like ashen dread,
burnt orange, just like the sky
during an atomic bomb,
yellows so bright and stark,
it starts to spark, then white again,
like roasted dust from cigarette butts,
and all the ash is all that remains,
of stories told, and memories of
all the nights we'd ignite, under
the lights that line the city streets.

And he makes me want to carve myself.
Starving from extended winter,
I beckon to you with a finger.
Trembling; my veins fill with splinters.

Wooden slivers cut me from the inside,
I race towards any assistance.
Pressed, I pray for brooding brilliance.
Why do you play my ribs like piano keys.

Signal to you with smoky urgency,
peer into your zippered soul,
through magnifying glass eyes,
I catch you in action.

Hinting at the secret;
the secret code to my hunter heart.
You can access its emotion.
But do not tell the others.

Capture me in your net,
I beach myself on your bed.
You become the shore,
I slap at you lazily, like ocean.

Flowing, we crash into one another.
Resonate within me like cymbals.
I vibrate—cut me in two million pieces.
I win with my hands down.

Hold me in your clammy palm,
then blow me away, like dust 

A haunting melody emerges,
from deep inside a Scandinavian enchantress.
Her sentiments alluring, 
capture my fluorescence.

I yearn to be charmed;
she steals all the blessings.
Pricks me with a needle,
drawing blood from a peephole.

With one thread, spellbinding,
beads dance, emphasizing.
I underline a reminder,
joined at the waist, we mingle.

Crash into me like a stormy shore,
dampening my every pore.
Meet me inside a darkened cave,
your fingers are hungry.

Piercing, I sew us together;
classical dances align us.
Like a string coming loose,
we are forever unraveling.