The gray ladies by the lake embellish my crimes
With jewels and bloodlust, and twists that scare me.
My knives puncture flesh and dance on red dimes,
Yet no one with a kind soul calls me Bloody Mary.
These palms do not butcher for pennies or thrills.
Revenge is my faith but I can replace faux gods.
If your grandmother’s story gives you a cold chill,
Keep your hands in your pockets to beat the odds.
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 