It’s 2.30am and there’s nothing left in this world for me to fix,
Nothing I can do to change what’s been done, no knock-off tricks
Left in my sleeve – I’m fresh out of cheats to unlock this next level.
I’ll pack up and run. You’ll stay here to watch the dust settle.
To our past I feel sorry, my trembling arms are still holding on so tight.
But, then again, from a hundred wrongs you can’t make a single right,
Especially during the night.
Don’t call me lucky, my reality’s a free fall without a parachute.
I live on black coffee and spoofed memories of the lovers I mute,
My home is where I lay my head – but you can’t make running your friend.
You were right when you said I’m so fake I could run for president.
But, I swear, when I closed the door I didn’t mean to burn the bridges –
No point for explanations though. Just hope you won’t become religious.
“The Runaways” was playing the evening we crossed paths, it’s funny
How the moments you treasured seem foolish now, and less than temporary.
You never seemed to notice the worlds I built around you in my mind
So I built some without out you, pretending we would be just fine.
My fantasies became so real I couldn’t grasp.
And suddenly you knew, but you never asked,
Pretending we could be just fine…
***
It’s 4am and in fact, nothing needs my fixing.
I’m broken, true, yet I’ll stick to my vicious cycle of affixing
To someone that holds me together,
Only for a little while,
Like we’re birds of a feather,
Until I find a new place to start a better life.
One day I’ll make it right.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 