Asghar Abbas's Blog - Posts Tagged "paintings"

It's not like there are any more corners left. It's an empty room after all. This isn't something that's ever going to be written down, let alone finished. That's one faded blue shirt that'll never be unbuttoned. But here's a sneak peak anyways, and oh it's a spoiler. All the butterflies were dying. And then, they were all dead. That's saddening but not the sad part. The sad part was, sitting alone, cross legged on a dull hardwood floor, she was eating all those dead butterflies, all by herself. But that was okay. According to one single half-eaten moth in there among the rest of the ugly butterflies, life was kind again. All around her were happier endings of very unhappy people, but she, she alone was the butterflies' happy end. She was eating them now, but later they would consume her in another story.

I won't.
I know I can't compete with your Musician.
He breathes his music into you
and touches you in his absence.

Lute or flute - he's fluent in your folklore,
He has your measure, meter, mythos.

What I do kills me patiently.
You think you know better,
but you're just dying faster,
High on the toxicity
that you aren't smart enough to see
Trusting what you should avoid,
wary where you shouldn't be.

You say you've survived loneliness:
Does that mean you'll survive this?
After is the loneliest day.

I wish I knew what to say.
In dreams I have a borrowed word
a crack of light in a shattered sky
the right song in a hazy bar.

But when I wake the word is gone
the light is wan
and the song
you're hearing isn't mine.