Poetry
Black Tourmaline.
Kash Baloch·November 11, 2020·Original
8reading now·221views·137readers

Raging raven rebellion rani, raspy & reclusive.

Parades peppered praise inside poltergeist pockets.

Ebony so effervescent, it could've been onyx.

Opal, obsidian—an obsessive evening of anguish.

Colliding as I crash on repeat, reckless.

At the very intersect of valour & arrogance exists an abyss,

a blackhole of laboured breath that blankets us like breakfast.

Grief is a graveyard of gifts, organized in rows that remind us of impermanence.

Tied to trauma tinted by teflon terrorism—

I will always be your hostage..

“Ebony so effervescent, it could've been onyx.”

— Black Tourmaline.

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