The kitchen sink is leaking for the third day in a row.
I keep re-watching the tragedy unfold,
Sitting in the first row.
My bedsheets trap me in chain-like embrace.
I cannot leave, no.
The night has lost its honest face.
There is no one to call, no one to answer the cries.
Reality seems so fragile,
It is only hardened by lies.
And the windowsill speaks my mother tongue.
What a shame – burning so bright
To burn out so young.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 