In this dark winter palace I’ve built for myself
Spring only lives in books stocked high on the shelf.
The snow greets me, deceives me,
Makes sure no one sees me.
In this dark winter palace people don’t ask for help.
The red roses freeze alive and wait for the sun,
But I cut their corpses and stick them in guns.
The ice hides me, it tries me,
Ready to villainize me.
The red roses plan riots, but I can’t be outrun.
In this dark winter palace I’ve made from ashes
Neon poisons come from clouds in blinding splashes.
The cold pulls me and dulls me
Like I’m just a trophy.
In this dark winter palace fire dies as it catches.
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 