Wait Up

The mask is slipping,

Ripping my veil open at the stitches.

But my temper switches

Between keeping the riches and keeping my pride.

“Such a waste of a beautiful bride.”

My spite boils like the desert sun.

I hold the gun close to my right

With no one in sight except heroes and foes.

I’ve been travelling through lows.

And maybe it’s your time to start unravelling…

The mask if halfway off.

Enough.

Leave the cuffs, let the covered half pay what’s due.

It takes two to turn my guts true –

So wait up,

I’m coming with you.

-JW