Trees by my window turn chartreuse, they have lungs to feed and souls to sting.
The birds return home with the highest of winds, bringing the first breath of spring.
My eyes feel like an anchor in this scene, they’re ruining the view with bright red fear.
The blood I shed for vile creatures keeps visiting at night, threatening to disappear.
And I worry – maybe I got out too late to ever pull myself back together again?
Maybe I truly played my last card, ceiled the faith, and lost myself as a friend?
The pound of flesh I offered them for free wasn’t an invitation to rob my skull empty –
But I thought once I left, we would be even, yet, I’m broken and they still have plenty.
So where is the fairness my ego promised? Where are the roaring melodies?
The life spins faster and faster around me but I no longer feel like its centrepiece.
And the trees get greener, the city gets louder, the sunlight numbs me to the bone.
I pray each night to the gods I dethroned
That I still have the spite to never answer the phone.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 