Day: Mar 21, 2022

All the bright people lounge on their wide terraces,

All the right people disappear once the night passes.

I collect my crosses like a butcher collects knives,

And keep my throat away from those shiny hives.

But the clinking of the metal is slowly approaching,

The weight I have to carry is larger than the ocean.

The bright people play their roles as the stage shrivels,

And my life falls apart in violence and shivers.

-Jackie