The night dribbles on my tongue like a bittersweet symphony,
It plays with my senses, it wants the moonlight to sing with me.
I have been counting my blessings and writing down the spooks.
The night watches silently as I burn down my deepest roots.
And I know what they say about people who survive on darkness –
We are the wicked crowd, forgotten by the gods of our fathers.
But the night stares patiently as I wash my scars with bleach.
The shadows form black smoke around each limb that bleeds.
Lately all the lightness has become just too heavy to carry.
I naively wish on a dying star like it does not have bodies to bury.
The night drips down my lips with all its sticky sentiments,
It plays with my mind, trying to find where I lost my innocence.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 