If There Could Be

Author | Z. N. Pasha

If there could be
An ocean that would
Transport me across this dingy old bed.
Where all my strangled hopes,
Tantalizing secrets and
A lone wolf are buried.
If there could be
A rope that I could tie around
My neck and lift
Myself finally off the
Ground in one last
Attempt of becoming an angel,
I would forget all the
Filthy lingering touches of the
Two springy mattresses.
If there could be
A portal right here
Between flickering black and white channels
To another world
Where there is nothing
Except coal black misery-
Called hope
I would want to dangle there
Transcendent and shifting
In hope that I might find hope.
If there could be
A brush
I could paint life with
In all its translucent colors-
Love and loss,
Where there will be
Solace but emptiness.
If there could be
A life I could live
Out of this one
Where we would last
Yet die together.
If there could be
A ceiling I could stare at
On days I fail at failure
I would gladly paste a picture of
A dead Bulbul.
If there could be a single headboard
I could lean on
In a chaotic train station
I would buy tickets to
Cities I can’t pronounce
In the name of nothing but something.

About the Author | Z. N. Pasha lives in an idyllic reclusive bubble. A new kid on the scene, studying for an undergrad degree in English Literature in Lahore. She grew up surrounded by dusty books and too many languages. So of course she decided to write about confusing narratives out of sheer boredom. She writes short stories. And sometimes weird poetry while avoiding finishing her novel.