Tag: depression

Fraud

I don’t deserve it.

“You look like you need it.”

          A cherry flavoured kiss.

I still taste you on my beard.

A door knocks.

         An ancient bird that taps.

Shadows close in on me.

          The mouse-trap with red velvet cake.

You don’t deserve anything.

          It snaps. It recoils.

This is how a dream breaks,

And I’m relieved.

You were never real.

          It was all given to you,

          And now you return to take me back.

I laugh at your audacity

“Papers, please.”

I was never here in the first place.

There is a beauty in surrendering.

© A.R. Minhas

by A.R. Minhas

I Hear Things And I Feel Nothing.

“I have shared secrets with you…”

“Oh Dead Mother!”

“Come have your pills. Depression doesn’t look good on you.”

“It’s just a coincidence that you wore red today.”

“I’m masturbating in public!”

“…And let’s abort this thing.”

“And why do you care that our generation is the worst?”

“You didn’t taste that way before…”

“And I’m learning more about you. Every time we feel each other.”

“Just remember– The Dream of a Green Sunday.”

“Meat has turned raw, my existence is a tragedy.”

“White-Chocolate Cheesecake is the escape, and I feel nothing for you.”

“There was love once…wasn’t there?”

“I think and there was an illusion.”


(c) A.R. Minhas 2019

by A.R. Minhas

Become a Simurgh

I feel distant again

It started when I desired to be desired

 

And no one has time to waste

 

I became a Simurgh

Soaring on top of a digital wasteland

 

You can keep your trypophobic flowers

I only smell the sweet pheromones of death

 

Did you hear the outrageous music?

 

It was bright red, like a Sun that gives everything but receives nothing

 

I became a Simurgh again

Because they never rest on the ground

 

They are here only to bring messages

They have no time for your stories

 

Eyes instead of feathers to observe

Not to live

 

There is no living here

 

Only beginnings and Ends

 

The middle is soft and silly

 

Become a Simurgh

 

And leap over the earthly spikes

 

And escape your desire to be loved

 

These are trivial things

 

Become a Simurgh

 

So becoming something doesn’t matter anymore.

 

© A.R. Minhas 2018

by A.R. Minhas

Blackholes

I’m sailing a ship in space,

Because I want to be left alone.

Everyone told me I will drown in the moon.

 

And I’m ok with that.

 

As long as I can have my smoke on that secret porch,

As long as I can feel the sweet comfort of a dark chocolate cake that was left over,

I sometimes imagine your blood is its icing.

I’m colonizing the stars,

Repopulating them with your memories.

At the bottom of the ocean

Pressure conforms—cracking skulls

The sound of opening a can of coke

“Come share with me,”

I’m spilling purple flowers everywhere

Can you imagine a gesture of love drifting alone in space?

 

So peaceful.

At the bottom of the ocean.

Living in Atlantis.

Imaginary like heaven,

All the pain disappears.

Like a memory of that light that was there once,

Like a memory of oxygen…

Everything fades to zero-calories of nothingness.

 

My lungs grow heavy with sulfates

Why don’t you just die here?

“This is a good spot,”

The black hole is right above my head.

 

© A.R. Minhas 2018

by A.R. Minhas

Stagnant

Someone said I can have the whole world

I’m stagnant now

Held into place by my inaction

And I spill a pint glass

My emotions are swaying everywhere

And I continue to overshare my insecurities

I’m not too drunk to notice you flinch

And make your faces

 

I’m surrounded by people who don’t realize my greatness

Just because I’m puking in the vase

You don’t know my greatness

 

I sail on the smoke of an early morning

Cigarette craving

 

This is my regret

And thank you for your indifference

I almost stabbed you with my pen.

 

© A.R. Minhas 2018

by A.R. Minhas

She Offers Flowers

She offers us flowers

And I wonder about the milk that was never served

She Offers us Flowers

And all I can think about are your eyes

How I would like to separate the light

The chemicals that split apart

            I fed your love to the children of the street

She offers us flowers

            And her petals lubricate the darkness

I have served my loneliness well

            Indifference is the thing that kills

And you served me flowers

Hungry still

            I devour your Nectar

                        Blood on my gums

My Tongue swirls in the ozone layer

I served your breast on a plate

            By the fireside

                        The ash is your Flowers

Sprinkled in that afternoon

                        Fucking Blue

To keep my fingers

            From the third eye to the other one

She offers us flowers

            And I can only serve you cold meat

If you are my truth,

Then you are my hurt

            I let it bleed

                        A scab that is worn like a battle wound

                                    Mottled entanglement

The flowers are raw

            And I am burnt

If you serve them again

            I have to refuse again

Indifference is the thing.

© A.R. Minhas 2018

by A.R. Minhas

I’m Standing Still

I’m standing still

You keep moving on

In my artificial drunkenness

 

I smell the sweet taste of death.

 

Non-existent comforter

 

Wrapped in your left breast

 

Milk gets everywhere

Spilled on afternoon tea

 

Green as you were

 

I’m left pale and broken.

 

“Where is my womb?”

 

I’m left to wonder how cruel I can get

Have you seen my torture lungs?

 

Bronchials inflammed

Shooting with nerves

 

I want to share my fluids.

But not at the price of my company

 

I’m better standing here.

And you all the way there.

 

Our spikes are meant to stab

No comfort in human touch

 

The digital release of my soul.

 

I’ll impregnate you with my thoughts,

Abort me later.

 

You can offer me comfort from the other end of the world

I don’t want your closeness

 

The messiness of attachment

I can only offer you mind-numbing cliches.

 

There is no warmth left anymore

My body is cold

And your hands

Don’t resemble a soul mate.

 

 

©  A.R. Minhas 2018

by A.R. Minhas

Show Me Your Eyes

 

Your eyes meet mine while you eat

A Red Velvet Cheesecake

Teeth crackle

And I feel your lips

Cold tongues and warm breath

 

“Show me your eye, and I’ll show you mine.”

My hand travels underneath the table to meet your thighs

No one will know

And you laugh that laugh when we first met

 

You know the type of girls I like

The ones who present a new way of thinking

Perhaps, if I drew you naked

I could understand

What you present to me

 

The randomness of your hair

And when you try so hard to maintain a straight face

While you are grabbing

Your breasts

I need cream for my coffee

 

The structure of your abdomen

Slopes to the slit of your eye

 

Clitoris of your soul

You gush my favorite dopamine sundae

Dripping like chocolate molten

These fingers know how to move

I know you have to go

It’s ok

 

I’ll deal with my trust issues later

And I’ll text you when you get back

 

For now, I have to go

Keep your eye on me, always.

 

 

© A.R. Minhas 2018

by A.R. Minhas

Deeper Than Dreaming

The waters re-appear

Drowning imagination in salty froth

As the world strangles his neck, he felt his teeth fall,

Below the abyss of the waking world— like notes from the past

Images left on the canvas

“Don’t paint them again!”

 

I wander now on the boat made of rubber tires

Using broken hands to steer

The stiffness points north

“I have no intentions of going on journeys anymore.

Let’s dream to wander aimlessly.”

 

Inner eyes seeing through the body

But there are no landmarks or memories to possess

 

Everything I was once

 

Gone

Left only with the finding of himself

 

With fluidity, he soothes his urges,

But now the tempest has risen again

Nostrils contracting with the heavy scent of turpentine

Knowing the power over him is held by the blueness of the past

 

But the crippled sailors’ journey is meaningless

At the same time, the boat is only directed by an easterly breeze;

Reflected by Narcissus

 

Lip-syncing Queen of wands I found in that forgotten deck

I don’t fear the tides

Like towers crashing down

 

But even at the edge of this precipice, I can’t escape my body

Frozen by guilt and sheltered by the warmth of regrets

 

 

I am the only thing that survived the end of the world

Now the sea-serpent emerges from within

He rises                                   Spiraling like minarets

 

It was the snake that eats itself eternally

It hissed so he could bow his head

 

It proceeded to cannibalize itself

As the sailor continued on

 

 

There was still no sign of land

But the air had eroded a smile on his face.

 

© A.R Minhas 2018

by A.R. Minhas

If Loneliness Was A Cure

Raw silk

Pure power

You stand there edifying

A statue of my inadequacies

 

“My loneliness is better than yours”

 

Overheard.

Disjointed.

 

There is a word for that

Or there should be a word for:

When-you’re-surrounded-by-narcissistic-people-while-all-you-want–to- do-is-get-drunk as-shit-and-have-a-good-time

 

There is no respite from the world

You can only travel so far in the euphoria

Before they bring you back to life

People who would inflict cruelties

But scoff at murder

Murder is where you draw the line

 

“Here, I’ll draw the line for you.”

 

This is me.

 

There is everyone else.

 

I’m standing outside in white darkness.

A tap on the window.

 

I judge a place by­ their cheeseburgers,

And the beef is overcooked.

 

 

 

 

© A.R. Minhas 2018

by A.R. Minhas