Poetry
BP—A Poem About Boiling Points.
Kash Baloch·June 18, 2021·Original
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I need to be vaccinated,

immunized from those green eyes;

pools of jade, that pull me under,

they reel me in, then let me sink. 

Why do I desire drowning?

Like a bird made flightless from oil.

Feathers drenched and dripping tar,

all because I broke my own protocol.

An oil spill like no other, leaking out

as far as icy Arctic shores.

You dyed the sea black—

just like my heart is charred.

Perhaps no prisoner before me

ever dared to protest,

demanding justice,

or even just respect.

Your unyielding innocence

only leaves more room for neglect.

This is a disaster, like no other before it, causing mass endangerment

to marine animals,

mankind,

and ultimately,

all life on this planet.

Until you learn to leave on time,

no love like mine will ever stay;

even if your smile brightens

my darkest days.

This is the all-too-familiar recipe

for another bad romance,

so I'll take this chance to leave,

and be the one who got away.

“all because I broke my own protocol.”

— BP—A Poem About Boiling Points.

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