When the hell freezes over you will give me your sympathies.
I will live on sharp tongues and through graceless eulogies.
Your plain white laughter will cover up the dark scene.
Someone will curse my demons.
No one will know what that means.
Once in a blue moon my ghost will recount the chances,
The thoughts will fall like snowflakes, forming avalanches.
Was the loud river of your guilt truly always this dry?
Would I meet one more spring if I did not give you a try?
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 