People tell me I can’t blame them for yesterday’s sins.
When they dread me or behead me, I’m the one to call it in.
People ruin all I have built so they can get a lesson.
When they chose to burn me naked, I kept my old dress on.
People talk what they can’t learn but withhold the blame.
When I beg for decency, they claim we’re all the same.
People crush our dreams with dirt but see, nobody wins.
When the guts go down the sink, we cut our lips on rims.
-JW
Peppermint leaves melting ice cubes with their vital scent.
I’m crushing your heart being nice while you’re smoking a Kent.
The window is calling my skeleton nightly, like it’s for rent.
“Take a step back, friend, and use one more day to make amends.”
The cold water is squeaking my name and I must yell back.
Listened to seven records today, ditched the blame and finished the track.
Still – I can’t sleep, the pain my brain vomits paints it all black
But I promised to stay. Demons entered my soul. What a heart attack…
Does everyone else feel this haunted just for breathing aloud?
Is it a split between those who I trust and us, stormy clouds?
I’d help every stranger I meet, if my mind said that it’s allowed.
My words can’t melt you away but they can circle and crowd
Until I’m up that hill, ditching your cigarette smell and my doubt.
I’ll get to the promised land first. I’ll get to the thought drought.
-JW
Building oceans out of used duct tape rolls,
Hiding the motions while it’s taking a toll –
The chemistry’s fake and we’re caught blinded.
Five years ago I thought we’re like-minded.
But people change morals and wind changes heart.
I chose to go silent and you chose to go dark.
Won’t call you arch nemesis or even a stranger,
Yet the money I put on you –
I’d never again repeat that wager.
-JW
And to people who fell for the illusion of me doing well which I created –
I believed it too, but my mind stood in the cold and stayed berated.
Put one finger into the dark molasses, hit one more nail into the coffin.
Built a crematory of burnt bridges and needles dropping.
Yet – my gullible soul waited for the pain to soften.
I believe that everyone deserves a re-do but I wanted to have two
And maybe that’s too much to ask from my younger self, she’s still missing clues.
Once they reveal what’s hidden, she’ll learn not to overpay her dues.
In the distance I yet again see a sign blinking “What’s the use?!”
When I turn the other cheek, they steal my insecurities to turn me into a muse.
I know how to cause a fight but I’m yet to learn how to make it easy for me.
They once called me Francis Scott – all focused on the glitz, not on the story.
And I’ll keep covering my tortured being with saying “sorry”
When I don’t owe a single apology to people who came before me.
So fall for the mirage, don’t hesitate to bathe in pain’s glory.
-JW
Killing my mind every evening, holding it back from the green light.
The current hits it with pleading but I won’t budge or put up a fight.
My fists are by my side if I ever need a savior for my tongue’s messes.
While everyone’s running in circles, the generals are launching stresses.
It’s too risky to reach my arm out for that green flame in these times.
But what if I don’t and it’s over, there’s no substance in between these lines?
Ah! The sweat dripping down my back are almost freezing as I plan the escape.
Three years later I’ll either be dead or in a desperate need of the brakes.
Give me a break. Put a pause on this and rewind in a more peaceful decade.
Decadence is slipping through their fists but the damages are prepaid.
So I keep on slaughtering my brain at every crooked turn, at every twist.
To cut these demons out of my dysmorphic body I might need an oculist.
-JW
You can’t rely on this path dug by rebels like me.
It’s been crossed and dulled, impossible to see.
Can’t ride, can’t crawl through it in your Ante attire.
You won’t find a patsy to help you escape this fire.
Neon boneyards flaming in distance, viva Las Vegas!
Leave! Take all you can carry, call a powerful magus.
Hide with someone you trust in the city of betrayed
And hope this isn’t a night that you get played.
Cut all contacts or sweep them under the rug.
Don’t tell them what’s going on, don’t give a hug.
You can only swear on words of a rebel, hold on tightly.
Move up to the east, and keep moving there nightly.
Once the neon pollution leaves your left lung, sleep in.
The river is poisoned, the hills can always steepen.
As the air of the burning city flees your thirsty lips,
You’ll look back just in time to see how it still grips.
Staring back at you with its promise and realization –
Nothing incinerated, your mind was the ruination.
Those city towers were toying with your psyche.
You can’t rely on this path dug by rebels like me.
-JW
Always threatened to meet my maker if I disobey –
If my smile isn’t wide enough, I have to pay.
If my sleeves are too short, I become the prey.
The world must be someone else’s oyster because to me
It’s another circle in a groundhog day.
Always scared to be left scarred or for the dead –
If I ever talk back, they might crush my head.
If I have some pride, they call me featherbed.
But they can’t stop, I need to be taught a lesson
No matter how much I’ve already bled.
Always scrutinized for not being cautious all the way –
If you get annoyed by my attitude, I don’t get a say.
If you think I’m pretty, I must keep your affection at bay.
And I pray, and I pray, and I pray that there comes a time
Where my experience is not underplayed
So I don’t have to put “hard to work with” on my resume.
-JW
Running for your life is not good enough, go faster, over the speed limit.
Ruining everything sacred in this looped fantasy of yours taught me to skim it
But never showed me how to sit through a storm with my blinders shut.
Your neck twisting around mine, pulling away, and we’re stuck in this rut.
“Life has no meaning,” they say, “if you waste it trusting your own guts and bones.”
“It has no meaning,” they repeat, “if you share love through cables and telephones.”
But it’s not easy to follow someone playing god with menacing conviction.
It’s hard to walk down the road of not being able to tell apart fact from fiction.
I keep bleeding on the razor’s edge, fingers all cut up from pretending I’m fine.
I leap forward and rock back, knowing too well that they’re approaching from behind.
But the mountains echo my pleas for safe escape and I see dew covering the petals.
The melody goes silent as I escape this dead-end of dead eyed people
Giving souls out as rentals.
-JW
Don’t waste my time, I know how to do it on my own.
The tears dry by turning to ice while they call me Joan.
I might be a heroine but not yet a saint, don’t lean on this loan.
Sky stinks of pastels and my soul evaporates into acetone.
Birds outside of my window are shooting for the pale moon.
Hours passing by, promising that I can leave this place soon.
The destiny is dragging out my breaths to the ancient runes.
I don’t mind theatrics but this murder feels like a honeymoon.
The further down the road, the more absurd it all becomes.
So much time to spend, yet we have to follow the beat of the drums?
Let me scream into the world’s pillow while everyone hums.
So much time to waste, so many lively lungs but it seems –
No one is noticing the swords and the guns.
Am I speaking in tongues?
-JW
Eyes wide open, staring into the one hundred little defeats they’re selling.
Their children – infected with prejudices, it’s the only sound they’re spilling.
Broken childhoods sold on every street corner, spreading faster than rabies.
Their boys never learnt that girls don’t have to grow into convenient ladies.
Hair locks daintily combed back to avoid any confusion or unspoken rumor.
In towns like this word spreads through gazes and bites harder than a tumor.
If you think I’m too harsh, go ahead and cut those looks out of me, I dare you.
But let’s be blunt – you can’t imagine the suffocation if you weren’t there too.
All seven heavens could open for me but I’d still look back, scared to be followed.
Don’t beg me to sing those hometown blues again
If you’re not prepared to be swallowed.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 