Trauma & Survival
Bulletproof.
Kash Baloch·October 6, 2016·Original
7reading now·305views·189readers

Incorrigible landscape,

that cannot be recreated.

There is no copy and paste here.

Ticking underneath my ribcage,

a sleeping dragon awakens.

Beating to the rhythm of birdsongs,

one misstep could collapse a civilization.

A glance mistaken capable

of crashing stock markets.

Your guess as good as mine

what could make it plummet.

Sending shockwaves through nations,

like a sonic boom.

Tremors that create rifts in the Earth,

like natural disasters.

Corrugated cardboard heart of mine,

often recycled,

occasionally left behind.

One wrong move and limbs go flying,

splattering the air,

like the paint of possessed artists.

A twisted scientist,

he is a tortured genius.

His every project,

government green-lit.

Imagine such power,

the kind to be marvelled.

With enough force to

crumble mountains;

one snap of his fingers

and the world is reduced to shrapnel.

Dust clouds the sky reducing vision.

There is no clarity here,

it vanished like a magician.

Sometimes he is the court jester,

others, the king.

One misinterpretation is all that is needed

to result in widespread suffering.

So, be quiet and still.

Proceed with caution,

treading on egg shells,

so he remains sleeping.

While he is dreaming,

there will be peace in the district;

no chaos in these streets,

tonight.

“what could make it plummet.”

— Bulletproof.

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