Today I used the money you gave me as a coaster,
Spilling black coffee over our history
As you pretend to toast her
While adding drugs to her champagne.
I can’t help but wonder –
Do you really not feel any of the pain?
We give you gilded towers
But only our wounds feel like true gains.
She cheers to you and loses the power,
Hands tied, no more going against the grain.
The chanting grows louder,
And by the witching hour
You drown her last hope down your hungry drain.
-JW
My migraines help me kill the time
While you squeeze acid in my eyes mixed with sparkling lime.
I can’t stop spinning, crawling on the ceiling,
Looking for a single reason to not lose all meaning
In between the lines you keep feeding me.
(Or is it “lies”?)
Why do you cry when you’re defeating me?
And then you demand that I apologize,
Sometimes call for a sacrifice,
Just to ensure that you don’t get furious –
Because we both love a good fuss
But somehow it’s always me being scolded
About your walls not being golden.
“Honey, pull yourself up by the bootstraps and fight,
The ticket holders really don’t have all night.”
So you roll your eyes as I beg for a chance
To ever meet your highest demands.
You know that I’m worthy,
That’s why you make sure I feel worthless,
You tell me the world will be sturdy
Even if you replace me with a carbon copy
That complains a little less.
But I stay loyal
As I write down your crimes.
No alibis will ever soften the jury’s face during the trials.
You know what you did,
Starting from quiet decapitations you hid,
Ending with loud scandals they threw in the bin.
Because we let migraines kill our time –
But you’re no longer mine, it’s the end of the line.
I hope the sour truth will keep burning your eyes
Until my last memory of your tough love dies.
-JW
Six months ago I was tired enough to bury my bleeding pen.
Don’t even ask about the funeral,
We weren’t allowed to mourn in The Great Pretend.
It was almost comical –
How easy we gave away our freedom before the end,
Before the last convulsion at the oracle
Where he told us we’re denied the help of a friend.
But it made sense back then, even the stories, odd and allegorical.
“It’s all worth it because I can pay the rent.”
Well, partially, their greed was diabolical
And it followed wherever my wounded pride went.
“As long as it’s not me their calling hysterical,
I’m safe in uncertain times, this luck is godsent.”
The fear wrapped around my wrist like a tentacle,
Pulling away the keys to my home, putting my mind in a dark tent,
Leaving it there for a night in a burning pentacle.
I still said “thank you” when I woke up and saw my humanity bent.
So my grin grew cynical,
A black poison of the dirtiest blend.
I saw the vision my pen held in its ink with all the miracles
But I had no courage left to make amends.
I had no desire to reach the pinnacles,
Their wish was my command.
To my own ridicule
I sank into The Great Pretend –
With no will left to power through,
With just a loud plea to meet the end.
But that was six months ago and my pen had power over me, too.
Now its anger ascends,
Up, only up, until it sees sky in the sharpest blue,
Until The Great Pretend is so far it can’t steal our safety pins
And our truth.
-JW
I see neon crosses behind your pupils,
Dilated, shining in evil spasms.
It’s brutal –
How you dig wounds in me, huge like chasms.
But I collapse only for a moment,
Waiting for a fair trial,
A rightful atonement
That takes away your bile,
Your bitter exile.
Sit with me under the oak tree just for a while.
And forget what I said when we broke into two –
That I always dream
About hunting you
Like an animal, like a losing slot machine…
Each time you get away
But you’ve never been the best of prey.
Your grace burns holes in my lungs
As you freeze me with a stare,
Electrocute me with your seven tongues.
Go ahead and fill me with the venom,
I’ll survive.
The night is still young.
-JW
Bright orange sun’s setting over your empty building,
The windows carry your refection, pale yet gilded.
The apartment’s wrapped in your evaporating scent.
It’s fading into nothingness, stealing away the rent.
You’re gone but the misery is running on empty.
I’m just wishing someone would volunteer to help me
And bring back what’s left of you in this wasteland –
But tragedy only kills those who face it first-hand.
I miss you while the sun plays with your coffee cups.
Your neighbors don’t know, I hear their laughter erupt.
From your living room window I see the place we met,
Now it feels like a long-abandoned movie set.
I get on my knees and let the light burn me dry,
Praying to anyone who would listen for one last high.
Yet, the radio silence is unforgiving, as always,
And I know I’ll move on from these never-ending dog days.
Still, the orange sun haunts me through lonely evenings,
It fades your reflection and calls it grieving.
Looks are deceiving.
I need you to stay just to keep breathing.
-JW
The oblivion in the corner of my brain seems to grow.
It nags my senses, threatening a row,
Calling my peace a riot –
Despite my soul staying deadly quiet.
So why is it growing, who’s feeding its rhetoric?
These thoughts are so vehement,
They launch at me with grave disgust,
Dusting off all the pain I’ve never discussed.
In the centre of it – there’s you,
Replaced with coordinates and clues.
And I know I must resist this,
Your words are too malicious.
But the oblivion surrounds us
With discomfort and chaos
Until the terror grows larger than we could ever dream.
It shoots back at the universe, beam after beam,
And we’re frozen,
Almost like we’re chosen…
I let the chips fall where they may.
There’s comfort in masterless fate.
I pick up the shards,
I cut you out, pretending it isn’t hard
To admit that we were never in the cards
As my soul watches like a prison guard.
But the oblivion in the corner of my brain seems to go.
It takes your face and all the pain I’ve ever known.
Not for long, no,
I’ll see you next weekend to repeat this show.
-JW
You arrived like a storm and left with the first Foehns,
Blonde hair and bruised collarbones,
Green dripping down your unreachable phone.
The dial tone says it all,
She’ll never come home.
Sweating champagne, grasping at cigarette smoke.
You swore there’s no difference between broken and broke
While sipping Coke until the city air choked
As you danced alone
To Killing Joke.
And they loved you while I swallowed the tears.
No one worries because no one hears –
But your lips shoot to kill once the midnight nears.
Yet – all they see is your costume
With its bunny ears.
You’re always running your tongue, it’s a wicked race.
Survival of those without shame and grace.
You thought your stature put me in my place.
But you’re heavy like a statue,
You can’t keep up the pace.
And I might’ve escaped but I’m still calling.
You never pick up but each day it’s less appalling.
So tonight I’m withdrawing,
Falling behind,
Letting you to go all in
And live on nothing but your bankrupt mind.
-JW
There’s this unspoken fear in the obvious
That’s devotedly snaking around the both of us.
Our wrists are leaking poison into the well
But I won’t say it if you won’t tell.
They’re drinking it up, they’re cheering out loud.
The biggest liar is the face of a crowd.
Our lids are dripping neon into the well
But I won’t say it if you won’t tell.
We’re drifting apart, firing bullets with our tongues,
Wounded to death but the night is still young.
Our heads are spilling gasoline into the well,
But I won’t explode if you won’t yell.
-JW
But I defy you with my one last breath.
If I try you again,
You’ll be double the threat.
I hold onto a thread that’s pulling me home.
No one knows
The depths I visit once I’m alone.
But I conquer them with your blotchy past
That you brandish
Like a fairy-tale for the masked.
I’m uncovered, I’m free from your jail,
But I’m short on spite,
Too prone to bail.
I must fight it, god, please light me up.
I’m so stuck,
Freezing quickly from the top.
And your eyes tie me down like a leash.
Now I see why it’s lonely
Leading the world from a mezzanine.
One face in the clouds, it’s pristine.
The second face trembling,
Covering up a murder scene.
Still, I pity you through my first unbound breath.
I’m guilty too
But I won’t carry your debt.
-JW
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
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 