Asghar Abbas's Blog - Posts Tagged "maham"
Beautiful Death. Robert M Ball
In a bare room dusty with longings, she pulled a hard chair made of oak and thistle, in the middle of her space, making him sit down on it, the ungraceful chair trembling with their mingled thoughts.
She moved down his arms, firmly setting them by his sides that became warm by her resentment. She tied a glistening lobster bib around his neck, her movements made slender by her fingertips.
Then she fed him his own words, one by one spooning them in, poisoning him slowly. Words he was crazy enough to give her in their quiet moments.
The truth was, he had only given her his words simply because she had asked him.
Next, she tossed, upturned and then upended an entire barbecue sauce (her own recipe) bottle, pouring all of it on his face, his mouth parting open in protest.
She watched it go all the way down his throat.
He wasn't pinned, he could move. He didn't, neither did she.
They both burned. Both of them. But for very different reasons.
She moved down his arms, firmly setting them by his sides that became warm by her resentment. She tied a glistening lobster bib around his neck, her movements made slender by her fingertips.
Then she fed him his own words, one by one spooning them in, poisoning him slowly. Words he was crazy enough to give her in their quiet moments.
The truth was, he had only given her his words simply because she had asked him.
Next, she tossed, upturned and then upended an entire barbecue sauce (her own recipe) bottle, pouring all of it on his face, his mouth parting open in protest.
She watched it go all the way down his throat.
He wasn't pinned, he could move. He didn't, neither did she.
They both burned. Both of them. But for very different reasons.
Ivana Besevic
Moon so swollen, so gorgeous, swaying all the wolves, like it's making amends.
hers to lose
hers to shatter
her shadows were the only ones left smiling
her reflection refuse to come out of the mirror, refusing to crawl out, acquiesce and correlate with her in the flooded hallway
instead swelling within the Baroque frame
whilst making something not hers well inside her
so
she sat there under the swollen moon
thinking of all the words she wasn't going to write
No longer resentful of being alive all her remaining particles became sacred, so she knew with absolute certainty she wasn't forgotten. Therefore, she was only a vagrant in her mind.
Out in the open in her own fields, she was smiling at the swollen moon. Go on, she urged the moon pinkly, keep saying inappropriate things to me.
The moon wasn't doing anything. He was doing nothing of sort. He was completely innocent of her.
hers to lose
hers to shatter
her shadows were the only ones left smiling
her reflection refuse to come out of the mirror, refusing to crawl out, acquiesce and correlate with her in the flooded hallway
instead swelling within the Baroque frame
whilst making something not hers well inside her
so
she sat there under the swollen moon
thinking of all the words she wasn't going to write
No longer resentful of being alive all her remaining particles became sacred, so she knew with absolute certainty she wasn't forgotten. Therefore, she was only a vagrant in her mind.
Out in the open in her own fields, she was smiling at the swollen moon. Go on, she urged the moon pinkly, keep saying inappropriate things to me.
The moon wasn't doing anything. He was doing nothing of sort. He was completely innocent of her.
Zuhaib Roy Drawing Studio
I have told you a thousand times and in a million different ways. I would know, I counted everything when I was with you and even more so, when I wasn't. You are nothing like Harley Quinn, not even a little bit, not even in any single way. However, you do look a lot like the Joker, especially when you smile in a certain way. Though your lips will always be the color of a dying leaf. You are definitely dead. Your very need for an audience killed you. Not very smart. But you are chubby in all the right places, with the right amount of fatness. Like that flaxen hair girl in the stone tower. You are gonna be so fat in the future that's not for you. How can you not be fat, stuffed with my feelings and words. Stupid blue shirt, but fuck you are beautiful. It's so unfair that you know that, that's really unfortunate. Still, cute butt though .
Greta Larosa
All her dreams keep placing her in all sorts of endings, kept putting her there, in the midst of all that was collapsing around her, but there was no end to her dreams. In the blackness of her nights, she had been dreaming a lot lately of destruction. It was a dream, an ending of sorts. She had been dreaming of such beautiful apocalypse, and but she was also dreaming of surviving it. She didn't know what was more frightening. Everything as she knows it, gone- or being left behind to deal with that loss. All that she ever dreamt of, was to be a loss. She was no one's paradise to get lost in.
