All my writing sounds like satire since you made my words miserable,
The sentences carry giant rocks uphill.
It’s ironic how holding my silence feels almost biblical.
And you haven’t thought about my perspective once since that day.
You change locks like your objectives,
Knowing I chose to swallow my screams and stay.
As long as you pay, I have to keep up the great illusion of respect.
Your delusions feel like a swirling quicksand,
But I must stay afloat, even when wrecked.
The bigger people in my life swore it’s nothing to worry about.
If one more mouth whispers “boys will be boys”,
I will drop dead in this helpless drought.
Each symbol I type laughs at my naivety, knowing you’ve won.
Your warm skin follows me down the rabbit holes,
Forcing me to face all you’ve done.
Nothing I can do will balance out the damage you leave behind.
My words are making me choke these days,
And it is funny how it hasn’t crossed your mind.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 