The story about the two of us flashes right before your eyes,
Your hidden intentions, their loud mouths, and my silent cries.
My whispers left burn scars on your chest, and they never healed.
You still recall your voice winningly ordering me to finally kneel.
Now the minutes are passing in frantic anger right in front of you,
The weapons you hid, the lies you abused to paint me ocean blue.
The only thing left in your corner is the path you chose to abandon,
So, you walk this earth like a lost soul, chasing long gone phantoms.
But the narrative shifts with every step, it growls like a hyena
As your sanity dangles over the edge like a sad ballerina.
You want to give me back the power, yet it is just a little too late.
The skeletons in your linen closet grind teeth in fuming hate.
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 