Month: Oct 2021

The Lighthouse

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You said I was a lone island with a tall lighthouse in the center, overseeing the seven seas.

You said I was a ruthless king, making laws as I was breaking them, never hearing anyone’s pleas.

I aimed for the throat before I met you, I slashed necks without looking in the victim’s eyes,

But you knew I could not point my blade at you, I could not tie you down with a hundred ties.

You told everyone my stories, and the reflection got distorted enough for me to lose myself.

You spun the mirrors until the image swallowed me, it turned me into a figurine on a shelf.

You said I was a frightening sea creature, luring sailors in my nets, cutting open their dreams.

And no matter how loud I said that you were a liar, your voice still drowned out my screams.

-JW

Paper Castles

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We were poor kids with paper castles in our heads and dirt on our feet,

Looking up to adults too headstrong to kill their deceit.

We played games in haunted sheds and climbed on fragile rooftops,

Chasing the one thing to bring us peace when the laughter stops.

We were just kids, throwing rocks into puddles and at shiny cars,

Spinning in circles just to see some constellations in dying stars.

We led battalions through neglected lawns towards a victory,

And we wasted away the last years when we could live a fantasy.

I was a dreamer back then, stuck in my perfect little lagoons.

Secretly they all knew I was meant to grow up a decade too soon.

As the others explored every nook and cranny of our neighborhood,

I slipped through the cracks and signed away my youth for good.

But I was just a kid, so I did not second-guess or mourn the loss,

Although the childlike glee of others stung, I carried it like a cross.

They were poor kids back then, too young to be scared or scorned,

Too naïve to know what it feels like when the paper castle is torn.

-JW

These Northern Winds

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The strong winds push me closer to the ground as I start ascending.

My left cheek is cut open by the sharp cliffs, yet my neck is not bending.

“Is this all you can do, is this all the wrath that you can unleash?”

The winds used to wrap me up, now they choke on their own leash.

And they swore I could climb these hills with the right inspirations,

They second guessed my every argument, called it childish hesitation.

As I am putting one foot in front of the other, I feel it in my bones –

These Northern winds only loved me when I was scared and alone.

They are out of rat runs to hide in, they must pin me to the ground,

The coldness of their breath hunts me down like a wild hound,

And the honed breezes try to knock me over at each turn I take.

I am weak, but I cannot wait for them to burn me at the stake.

The rugged path ahead puts my bruised limbs on autopilot,

My feet rush through the stiff branches as the rain becomes violent.

And my boots sink into the muddy surface, yet I pick up the pace.

As soon as I reach the summit, the sky clears, but it cannot save face.

-JW

Matches

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We are not supposed to run towards the fire,

We are not meant to burn things we admire.

Yet, we step over instincts like cigarette butts,

All for some new taste to disrupt our ruts.

And I was the first fire you could not put out,

You would have used fists if that was allowed.

My voice raised alarms and broke some fences,

Two days later you ran out of defenses.

You hated my guts, yet you could not leave.

Some would even mistake the pressure for gleam.

The magnetic field never let you off the hook,

Your instincts got burned, you went off book.

I burned you alive as the crowd was watching,

Still, you gave me all your spare matches.

-JW

Crystal Clear

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I see it crystal clear now, I am just a steppingstone for your ambition.

It hurts to know you only smile when I hand you my hard-earned ammunition.

When you fire away at them, you use me as your bulletproof glass,

Then leave me alone when I stumble home, wounded and lacking your class.

You spill your drinks on my pastel dresses and laugh whenever I protest.

I wonder what would happen if I became the antagonist and make you confess.

Still, my disgrace precedes me, all because of your unapologetic tongue.

And I am not sure if I care anymore, you ruined me when I was way too young.

Their cheap talk runs by my ears like a river you wanted to drown me in.

They all know you do not love me, yet they all know I am your favorite sin.

I see it crystal clear now, you want to smother me in the cheapest of deceits.

It must hurt to know that it is you, not me heading towards the great defeat.

-JW

Godlike

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All your long overdue confessions,

Spill them on fools seeking perfection.

Wear your chasuble and say a prayer,

But do not follow me down, betrayer.

All these glorious monologues to god,

Save them for the fools who just nod.

I do not walk beyond the ordinary,

Rewrite my biography as a mortuary.

-JW

Exiled

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I was the shark you always feared to swim into,

But your open arms made me feel like you were not afraid.

And the time passed by like a catchy melody until you realized,

Until all my past sins came out of the shade.

I admit it, my teeth rip apart bloated egos for pleasure,

But your bubble seemed sinless, so I steered clear of you.

There was something in your eyes that made me cautious,

And then came the day you painted me blue.

I know, they still recite my words like a famous poem.

But you did not expect it, no, you have lived in silence too long.

Now the distance you keep makes my grin cheerful,

You know you have done one too many wrongs.

I hear them talking, and the story disgusts you,

But it is too late to change that narrative for the crowd.

And your actions might have been foolish or misguided,

Still, they grow louder and louder whenever you turn around.

I was the shark you never expected to take you down,

You cut me to size like someone with a naivety of a child.

And your radar did not pick up a sound as I approached

Until your kingdom was gone, and you were exiled.

-JW

Recipe For Failure

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They take me in pinches, then throw me overboard.

They waste me like something they cannot afford.

The salt in my saliva gets mixed with their tears.

It’s the recipe for failure, it’s a hurricane of fears.

They spread my thoughts on their walls like paint,

Then use my eyeballs as lamps, classy and quaint.

The sour sentences I spew get collected in bowls,

And they use my brain to fill rifts and holes.

They scrub my consciousness with their dirty paws,

They wrap my skull in some yellowish gauze.

The bitterness is quickly climbing up my throat,

But the anchor in my chest is keeping me afloat.

So, they massage me into their scalps with vigor.

They watch me collapse in front of their triggers.

The last of my trust decays until nothing is left.

It’s a recipe for failure, it’s a rope around my neck.

-JW

Holy

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I’ll write a new letter for every day that you cheat me away from you.

Nothing good ever comes from dimly lit romances in motel rooms.

You knew last week, and you know it now, but you still cannot face it.

Your pride is a smoking gun drawn in the sand and I’m the eraser.

I’ll write a note on my phone for every minute you avoid my glares.

Nothing fair ever comes from kisses stolen through childish dares.

And I hear you outside of my door again, coming up with excuses.

I swear to god, all the great love stories were once mistaken for nooses.

I’ll write a pathetic melody for every year you forget my birthday.

Nothing rosy ever comes from broken glasses in a crystal ashtray.

There’s electricity in the silence you offer me when I feel lonely,

And I wish you knew how this numbness tastes, but you’re too holy.

-JW

The Prophecy

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The early morning sun fell gently on your shoulders that day.

Your words cut me right between the ribs

And sawed me until you had nothing else left to say.

The rumors fly in small towns like ours, I should have known.

Soon enough I was the only culprit,

And you were the man in the newly polished crown.

The neighbors celebrated you, they pitied my weak resistance.

My story was wiped out with the waters,

And you threatened to do the same to my existence.

The open wound on my side felt rawer as the days went by.

You kept sharpening your tongue

And insisted I will not see peace until I apologize.

But one early morning the sun never made it over the horizon.

The tears you cried, they were cold,

And they did not keep the others from theorizing.

The soles of your shoes grew thin as you were seeking me.

Your thoughts cut you right below the throat,

And the whispers you heard sounded like a prophecy.

-JW