These stories of shame and helpless wander,
I used to collect them like dirty pearls, wrap them around my neck,
Acting like this noose was a necklace,
Pretending that I held the right cards when I’ve lost my deck.
But I’ve burned the shyness, I’ve killed it.
Believe me when I say that I bathed in the ashes for hours.
Now all I hear are sirens, they get louder,
And I get this sudden urge to embowel everything we called “ours”.
It’s time for you to get pushed out on the open street,
Face your past demons, face your grizzliest fears.
Hear my stories, stop, and hear them out just once.
Let them burn you down like they’ve burned me for years,
Like they’ve killed me me for months.
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 