Advertisements
Tag: depression
Futile
Can you understand me?
‘Milk spilt in the hall.’
Dionysus cried himself to sleep.
Roses burning with a magnifying glass.
Melted sugar.
Come to the blue party.
Serotonin for you, and the light fades.
Blind
‘The head line dips to Luna.’
My delusions are mine to keep.
Share the kiss, never fall in Love.
Some people are blessed to be alone.
(c) A.R. Minhas 2019
Share this:
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
Share this:
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
Share this:
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
Share this:
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
Share this:
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
Share this:
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
Share this:
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
Share this:
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
